


Olly's Basket of Nicks

by Omoni



Series: Abovetale [37]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Idiots in Love, Married Life, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omoni/pseuds/Omoni
Summary: A short-story collection featuring the relationship between Basket, Olceal, and Nickname. Some are about Bass and Olly, Bass and Nicky, Nicky and Olly, or all three, and they are all connected and are canon with the entirety of Abovetale.This collection will of course feature spoilers for the game as well as the entire AU, and will be marked accordingly. It is Explicit, meaning, of course, smut, but does that surprise any of you, really?And yes, this is literally an entire collection focusing on the OC lizard and goat children - and a stoat child.Credit for the title goes to the recipient of this collection, AngleJoyce, who read one of these chapters and encouraged me to make a collection.This collection is dedicated and gifted to both AngleJoyce and Trash_Nicky, but AO3 won't let me add more than one name to the gifting page, so there it is.





	1. First (Hell In A Handbasket) (NSFW)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngleJoyce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngleJoyce/gifts).



> And we begin with smut! Enjoy! :D

The first time they had sex, it was the best thing they'd both ever experienced in the entire world. For years, simply remembering it would bring a smile or a chuckle, one the other would recognise and echo – before they both reached for each other.

It was the most completely random – and yet most perfect – moment of their lives.

* * *

It was late into the night, and Basket was acting stoned.

She wasn't; she was simply sleep-deprived, and starting to feel giddy and stupid from it. It wasn't really her fault, as she was so beat she barely noticed. They'd been studying for hours and hours, barely taking breaks, and it was making her forget how to even spell.

They both needed to graduate, and do it well, in order to find a way to earn the sponsorship money from the school for their first trip out of the country. They didn't _need_ the money, not exactly, but getting it would make things immensely easier, as well as give them more clout when in that other country. Both were smart enough to do this easily, and without stress and fear, but they were both incredibly and unbearably _lazy_ , and it had finally caught up to them both at the same time.

And thus, Basket was acting stoned, at some hour that neither would ever be able to recall, after. She suddenly slumped forward onto the desk, burying her face into her arms, and groaned, but softly, the sound wavering a little.

Olceal blinked, looking over at her sharply. They were at his house, the entire place to themselves, as Tally had an overnight shift and wouldn't be back until morning. Still, it seemed strangely loud, and he sighed.

“Bass,” he murmured, sitting up a little and nudging her shoulder with his own.

Basket, however, went rigid the moment he touched her, her eyes opening and flaring wide. She bit her lip, her hands holding onto her elbows hard to keep herself still, and suddenly, just like that, she knew – and didn't want to bother waiting, anymore.

“Olly,” she whispered, unable to think of how to word it, her whole face burning. She tried to hide it in her arms, better, worried. “Uh...”

Olceal blinked, her tone getting his full attention and keeping it. He leaned over, again, this time pressing his shoulder to hers and keeping it there, one hand reaching for one of hers. She held it up, and he took it – and blinked again.

It shook; Basket was shaking.

“Bassy?” he murmured, concerned, now. “Are you okay? Are you at your limit?”

Basket's face burned at that, her eyes wide and staring at the desk beneath her, still _. “Yes,”_ she blurted out. “Y-yes, v-v-very m-much...”

Olceal sighed a little; truthfully, he was, too, and was relieved. “Fuck it, then,” he replied, offering her a smile when she raised her head, her eyes now locked on his. “Let's just go to sleep.”

Basket swallowed hard, her face bright red, and she nodded. “O-okay,” she agreed.

Together, they got up from the desk and stumbled to Olceal's bed, collapsing onto it together in an exhausted heap. For a moment, when Olceal pulled her close and cuddled with her, she just melted into his arms, her eyes closing with relief. Her hands now fussed with her ring, the one he'd given her two years ago, now, and it was then that she felt it again, that feeling she knew she couldn't ignore, anymore.

Olceal, she thought, was probably oblivious and already asleep. But she was actually incredibly wrong. The moment they'd settled together, his eyes snapped open, and he bit his lip, shock rendering _him_ still - despite feeling overheated.

He felt it, now, too. And, like Basket, he had no idea how to say it.

Sleeping in the same bed wasn't new for them; they had, by then, done so several times, before, sometimes taking turns at each other's houses on the weekends. While those sleepovers weren't exactly the most _innocent_ , they'd never progressed to actual sex. It just never seemed to be the right time, either due to a lack of privacy, or a lack of time.

Both had agreed that, when they were ready for it, they wanted to take their time, make sure it wasn't awful, and have as much fun as possible.

Tally wouldn't be home for another six hours.

They were alone and done studying (they really _had_ hit their limit).

And they were now literally in bed together.

They would also lose the chance at the scholarship money because of this, but it was okay; they'd saved enough, already, and had wanted it just to be safe.

But it didn't matter, now.

This was the perfect time.

And they both knew it.

But they were both also rather shy and self-conscious when it came to intimacy, so neither just came out and said it.

Basket, however, shifted closer, her eyes moving up to look at Olceal's as she slid her arms under his shirt and around his plump waist. He sighed, shivering a little, and in turn snuggled closer, burying his face into her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, one hand going to her hair to stroke it slowly. It was her shortest, yet: cut right above her ears with long bangs that got into her eyes sometimes but otherwise made her look rather boyish and cute. He liked it, and he smiled, gazing at her with such deep affection that it surprised himself.

He loved her. He'd loved her ever since he let himself admit it, shortly before Basket turned sixteen. But he'd never said it, save having it inscribed on the inside of her ring. She, herself, hadn't even said it, and he was too scared to say it first.

Only now, suddenly, with this increased feeling of both want and need, he also felt as if he needed to tell her, too. And he realised that, before anything else happened, she needed to know.

“Bass?” he whispered, his voice muffled by her hair.

She shivered this time, edging even closer to him, her eyes fluttering closed. She still felt silly and dopey, comfortable and sleepy, and so incredibly protected, that she smiled.

“Yeah?” she whispered back, hoping he would ask her what she wanted to ask him.

But instead, he said the very last thing she'd expected – and yet realised that it was something she'd wanted to hear for a very, very long time.

“Bassy,” he whispered, hugging onto her tighter. “Bassy, I love you...”

Her eyes snapped open and she – something that would embarrass her, later – actually gasped a little, her head tilting up quickly and in turn hitting his chin with her forehead.

“What?” she said, her voice suddenly loud and sharp. _“What?!”_

Olceal smiled, unable to help it. Her expression was even better than he'd ever hoped for: she was amazed, yes – but she was beaming at him, smiling so wide that her teeth showed.

 _God, I want her to bite me with those teeth..._ he thought suddenly, before he could even think of replying. She'd nipped him before, true, especially if he was making her come and she was close enough to him to do so, but _those_ were not what he suddenly wanted.

He wanted her to actually _bite_ him – and while in the midst of passion, too...

A passion brought on by both desire _and_ love...

“What did you _just say,_ Olceal?!” she then demanded, reaching up and grabbing hold of his burning face into her hands, hard.

He laughed a little, then replied, so easily, now: “I love you, Bassy.”

“Olly,” she answered right away, her eyes blazing and searching his. “Olly, you know that I love you, too, right?”

Olceal blinked, his eyes widening, before he smiled and closed them, feeling them well up with tears. “I do, _now_.”

“I do, Olly,” Basket said firmly, her fingers digging into his cheeks a little. When he opened his eyes and smiled wider, her heart ached when she saw his tears. “Olly, I’m sorry, what's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he admitted honestly. “I'm... I’m so fucking _happy_ , Bassy...”

“I love you,” she repeated fiercely, her eyes still searching his. “I-I have for longer than I care to admit, b-but I love you, Olceal.” She blinked hard, her own eyes stinging with tears, now, too. “Do you believe-be-believe me?”

“Yes,” he whispered right away, kissing her nose right after. “It's why I’m so happy...”

“Olly,” she said quickly, her heart racing, now. “Olly, look at me.”

He opened his eyes slowly and met her gaze, and she stared at him, looking fiercely happy – and so strangely and obviously aroused. He _knew_ that look by now, and it made his heartrate increase, as well.

“Basket,” he whispered, leaning down closer, so that his lips brushed over hers. Again, she shivered, and her eyes darkened, never leaving his. “I love you...”

“M-make love with me, Olceal,” she blurted out, her voice catching on his name.

She suddenly felt scared, suddenly terrified he'd not only say no, but also take back his confession. It would be so like her luck, her bad, _terrible_ luck...

 _“Yes,”_ he whispered, instead, his eyes darkening, now. “Please, Bassy...”

“Yes,” she growled, before she pulled his face close and kissed him.

It was different, they both realised, almost right away. There was nothing innocent about it, and now, there was nothing held back, either. Basket immediately pulled him backwards with her, not pausing once in that kiss, and Olceal of course followed, landing atop her with a soft grunt. It made Basket chuckle softly against his lips, before her hands slid down and moved to the front of his pants, her fingers easily undoing them and tugging them down around his hips.

“Bassy,” he gasped out, pushing himself up onto his hands – though that was a challenge, as the moment he did, one of her hands went under his underwear, and his arms starting shaking. She always knew how to touch him, just right and in the way he needed, and he never knew how she did it – just that she did, and he loved her for it.

But she hesitated when she heard her name, suddenly unsure, and her hand stilled, her eyes opening and looking up at him. Olceal swallowed hard, staring back, before he reached down and pulled his underwear off, before that hand went to her pants, instead. She grinned, her face lighting up, and she kissed him, again.

It took a moment for both of them to get naked, as they kept distracting each other with their hands, either touching the other – or themselves. Neither could help it; they were both suddenly desperate for each other, especially now, especially knowing just how deep that emotion went. By the time they were finally naked, Basket's glasses even going off, they were both panting, their skin hot.

“Please,” Basket suddenly whispered, reaching between them and grabbing hold of him, shifting to part her legs and move herself closer. He staggered with a gasp, almost falling on her, but she held him up with her other hand to his shoulder, and he smiled gratefully, nodding.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and her teeth sunk into her lip, and he stared back, his mouth dry and his own eyes wide – and stinging.

Then, Basket eased her grip on his shoulder, instead sliding her hand down to his hip, before her other hand led him down toward her, her eyes locked on his. He moved down, his eyes closing briefly when he felt the head of his cock come into contact with her, just moving between the folds of her cunt. Her eyes darkened but stayed open, and they froze, both still panting hard.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Go slow... I don't... don't want to hurt you...”

Basket, however, grinned, her eyes suddenly blazing to life. “Shut up, Olly,” she answered, before she pushed her hips up – and pushed his down. He gasped again, clinging onto her, and she breathed out his name – and took him fully into her, without any hesitation or wait.

It felt _wonderful_. There was no resistance, no pain, and the moment she felt him fully within her, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and laughed, arching back and pushing her hips up higher. He felt _wonderful_ , _better_ than she'd ever dreamt of, and she was overjoyed that she'd been right, and there was no pain.

Olceal dropped down, pressing down against her and gasping, clinging onto her tight and not moving. He buried his face into her shoulder, gritting his teeth and trying to think of anything else other than what he was actually thinking: how warm she was, how slick and smooth she felt, and how snugly he fit within her, as if made just for her...

 _“Shit,”_ Olceal groaned out. “Bassy, stop, _stop!”_

She did, her eyes flaring with fear; she lowered back down onto the bed, her hands moving away, but he shook his head quickly, realising what she thought he'd meant and wanting to correct her. She didn't move, still, and it worried him.

“Bassy,” he growled out. “I... You feel... _way too fucking good...”_

Basket spluttered out a surprised laugh; that was the last thing she'd expected to hear.

“If I stay up here, I’m gonna come,” he admitted shyly, his face burning. “And way too soon... and I don't want that...”

Basket blushed, too, feeling oddly flattered by this. “S-sorry,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “O-okay... uh...”

“Take my place,” he suggested, before he winced and sat up, then pulled away – and out. Basket winced at that, too, but not from pain; rather, she hadn't wanted him to do that, yet, and hadn't been prepared for it.

Shakily, Olceal laid down on his back, and Basket sat up, moving to straddle him, like she always did when they made out. They both smiled at that shared thought, before Basket reached between them and grabbed hold of him, again, her eyes sparking when he cried out softly. She shifted, moving close enough so that she could brush along the head of his cock again, and his reaction pleased her immensely: he grabbed hold of her and buried his face into her chest, stammering as he tried to say her name.

“Ready?” she whispered, stroking him a little to make sure.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned out, kissing one of her breasts, then the other, before looking up at her. She grinned at him, and again, he suddenly yearned for her to bite him…

But then, she did the next best thing: she sat up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and lowered down, once again taking his cock fully into her and without hesitation. When he was completely inside, she grinned, her eyes closing and her hands going to his shoulders, holding onto them tight. This time, he was the one who arched up, and it made her gasp – and smile wider, her eyes opening slowly and meeting his.

He reached up and took hold of her face, pulling her down to kiss her deeply, staying still for a moment, in turn keeping her still, as well. She reached up and covered his hands with her own, returning his kiss with a soft growl, making him smile.

“Bassy,” he whispered against her lips. “I love you.”

“I love _you_ , dummy,” she replied breathlessly, swallowing back a lump of tears quickly.

“Then _move_ , you geek,” he teased back, his own voice catching shakily.

Basket opened her eyes again, and they met his, wavering with barely held-back tears – the same thing that she saw in his eyes. She snorted, then laughed softly, tearfully – but with so much happiness, and Olceal heard it and did, too.

Then, she held his hands tighter to her cheeks, closed her eyes again, and slowly shifted her hips, grinding slightly against him. They both gasped softly, smiling with shared pleasure. She pulled her hands away and moved them back to his shoulders, before she sat back up, her head tilting back. She shifted again, grinning when she felt another soft nudge of pleasure, and this time didn't stop, her claws digging into Olceal's shoulders a little.

It turned him on even more, and he gritted his teeth, moving his own hips up to meet hers, in turn pushing deeply within her with every shared move. Each time, they both made some kind of sound, be it a soft hiccup or a sharp cry, and each time they heard each other's pleasure, they felt the need to move faster, wanting more and more...

Basket was absolutely blown away by how amazing Olceal felt. This was nothing like anything she'd ever read or seen, and was thrilled by it. Not only did she feel no pain (she knew this would be, simply because she knew she had a very thin hymen, able to feel it herself whenever she masturbated), but the ease she already felt with Olceal, the trust she gave him by giving him her body, made this seem so easy and natural.

And with every single move she made, she felt wonderful, slow-building friction build along her clit, and already she could feel that she would definitely come, and soon. The way he felt, within her as well as against her, was like the best of dreams – and the fact that it was real made her laugh softly with bliss.

Olceal heard her and looked up, his hands moving up to her shoulders and getting her attention. Her eyes opened slowly, their colour dark and glazing over the closer she got, and with a soft whisper of her name, Olceal pulled her back down against him and kissed her deeply, holding onto her shoulders. She returned it, but in a distracted way, her eyes squeezing shut again. Her hands moved from his shoulders to the bed, digging her claws in hard.

The last thing she wanted was to hurt him – and she knew if she'd kept her hands there, she would have. Because she was very close, and it was _intense_.

“Olceal,” she barely managed to gasp out. “I... oh, f-fuck... _fuck!”_ She cried out, without words, this time, and she grinded hard against him, her entire body flashing hot the moment her orgasm hit.

Basket buried her face into his shoulder, and finally, to his already soaring delight, Olceal felt her bite down onto his shoulder – and _hard_.

He shuddered, already overwhelmed by how incredible it was to actually feel her come, but _that?_ _That_ broke his resolve and control, completely - he'd wanted it that much.

Basket was reeling, her claws digging right into the mattress - and later discovering that she'd punctured it – when she felt Olceal suddenly latch onto hard and arch up beneath her, gasping out her name. Her eyes flared open, and she quickly moved away from his shoulder and kissed his lips hard, just as she felt him come within her. She moved her hands up to his face and kissed his cries away, despite making a few of her own from her still-lingering pleasure, and she felt him shudder hard and cling to her tight, as if his very life depended on it.

“Olly, _fuck,”_ she whispered between kisses, her voice hoarse. “Oh, fuck, Olly... _fuck_...!”

He laughed weakly, then, collapsing beneath her and taking her with him, before he whispered, “Yes, Bassy - we did.”

She laughed, snuggling closer and burying her face back into his shoulder – before she suddenly burst into tears, wrapping around him tight.

Olceal jumped, in turn bringing a brief jolt to them both, and it distracted them briefly - but only briefly; Basket moved off of him gently, sliding down to his side and keeping her face hidden in his shoulder, her hands still on his face.

However, she moved closer and slid one leg around one of his, and he felt her tail hook around his thigh lightly. Both gestures reassured him, and he gathered her closer and kissed the top of her head, reaching up to stroke her hair and giving her the time he knew she needed.

Basket cried, feeling so happy that she couldn't hold back. She cried not because she was sad, or had regrets, but because she was so overwhelmed by her own happiness. She'd _never_ felt like this, not since Olceal had first kissed her, and that was pale, now, in comparison.

For all of her life, since she'd started school, she'd learnt to accept misery as her default emotion, forced to swallow her own tears for the sake of sparing herself more.

And now, for the first time in her life, she not only felt truly happy, but deserving of that happiness.

Of course she cried; it was such a drastic change, and she had Olceal to thank for it.

Olceal, who had, in his small way, helped bring that misery into her life, had now managed to dispel it.

Oblivious to this, Olceal merely held Basket to him, his other hand slowly rubbing her still-sweaty back as she cried. Her hands moved down to his shoulders, and he sighed deeply, the feel of her hands wonderful over his sensitive, fuzzy skin.

After a moment, he heard her whisper, “Thank you...”

Olceal frowned, moving to look at her, and she raised her head, sniffling. She smiled faintly when their eyes met, but he shook his head, touching her cheek and brushing away her tears.

“Why are you thanking me?” he wondered, genuinely confused. “I'm pretty sure that was a team effort, Bassy.”

She laughed weakly, surprising them both, and this time she shook her head. “Oh, Olly,” she whispered, nuzzling his hand and closing her eyes affectionately, her smile widening. “You really have no idea, do you?”

Olceal blushed in embarrassment, feeling suddenly very foolish, as if he'd missed something very obvious. “No,” he admitted shyly. “Sorry...”

Basket bit her lip, then sighed, her eyes opening and meeting his. She held his hand to her cheek, looked right into his eyes, and told him exactly what she'd been thinking, and what had made her cry, and why.

By the end, Olceal's eyes were full, and he was shaking. He'd truly had no idea that she not only felt that way, but that it was because of him. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, before he submitted to his own tears.

“I love you, Bassy,” he rasped out. “I love you _so fucking much._.. I never, _ever_ want to be apart from you...”

“I'm _that_ good?” she teased, and he laughed and nodded, a bubble of happiness bursting within his breast.

For the rest of that night, they stayed in his bed, staying naked but spending the time cuddling and talking, sharing ideas and plans, as well as confessing many things held back, but for no longer, as now, there simply was no point.

They were still awake when Tally got home, by then washed up, dressed again, but still cuddling in his bed and dozing a little.

When she called for them, they looked at each other and shared a smile, a deeply personal smile that said so much more than they could ever truly say. They kissed, briefly, before they got up and out of bed.

Hand-in-hand, they went downstairs to greet Tally – and start yet another new chapter, together.

And a very long one, indeed.


	2. Firsts (The Flags Fly At Half-Mast) (NSFW!!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, THIS IS SO FUCKING EXPLICIT. 
> 
> This is the most graphic I've ever gotten in any story, and I've had Alphys and Asgore fuck while Toriel and Undyne fuck in a separate room, okay?! 
> 
> When I say "EXPLICIT AND GRAPHIC" , IT'S BECAUSE OF THIS FIC.
> 
> IT'S PURE THREESOME SEX GLORY. AND I SPARED NO EXPENSE. 
> 
> EN-FUCKING-JOY.
> 
> Also, yes, this takes place during The Flags Fly At Half-Mast. That's why they were late. TRY TO READ THAT SCENE AGAIN WHILE KNOWING THIS HAPPENED. I DARE YOU.

Nicky would always remember the firsts that she shared with her spouses.

 _Always_.

She'd never forget kissing Basket that first time, on the spare cot in the spare room, completely out of nowhere and bewildering Basket – until Nicky explained, and she thawed out completely.

That kiss was merely the first of many other firsts that night.

A beautiful night, an overwhelming night...

A perfect night. _The_ perfect night.

Then, her first kiss with Olceal. It was different than kissing Basket - fuzzier, softer - and she quite liked it, and him, very much.

That perfect night was the first time Nicky had ever slept in the same bed with anyone else intimately. While they didn't make love that night, in the morning...

In the morning...

It was when Nicky and Olceal had first kissed, true. But there was so much more than that. It was only the first of _many_ firsts that morning.

The morning was, in brief, _incredible_.

* * *

Basket held both Nicky and Olceal to her chest, her eyes closed and her face bright with happiness. Nicky could feel her wagging her tail, and honestly, she knew _she_ was doing the same – as was Olceal.

It made her giggle suddenly. Both Basket and Olceal turned to her and blinked, and she giggled again, covering her face and hiding in Basket's shoulder.

“Uh,” Basket tried. “Nicks?”

“Did we break her?” Olceal added.

“No!” Nicky laughed, raising her head, her own face bright, now. “It's just... I’m just...” She grinned. “I'm happy. Aren't... aren't you?”

Then, she paused, her face falling. “I mean... as much as we can be, right now...”

Basket looked away, and Olceal nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed gently, touching her hand. “It's okay. And yes. We are.”

Basket nodded, her eyes searching Nickname’s. Nicky saw fear and doubt in those beloved silvery eyes, and it made her so sad.

Even now, Basket was still frightened that this wasn't real, or wouldn't last.

But Nicky was very much like her father in that regard. She had no intention of being this way with anyone else in the entire world, and had no intention of leaving them, either. She was one who, like her father, mated for life. And it was to these two that she was mated.

_Without question._

So Nicky leaned forward and kissed Basket's lips, taking hold of her face and looking right into her eyes. Basket's eyes wavered, then darkened, before they closed, and she wrapped her arms around Nicky, pulling her close and deepening the kiss.

For a moment, Nicky hesitated, her eyes darting nervously to Olceal. However, the moment she did, his eyes softened – then kindled to life, slowly rising to a blaze. He slid closer to Basket and wrapped around her, brushing his lips over her ear, and she tilted her head back and broke away from Nicky, breathing out shakily. She reached back with one hand and touched Olceal's cheek, and he moved his lips down from her ear to her neck, kissing and nuzzling the curve of it.

Both Olceal and Nicky felt Basket not only start to tremble, but also break out into gooseflesh. When Nicky pressed closer and kissed her again, Basket moaned softly, her shivering worsening when Olceal slid his hand down her side and under her nightgown.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Basket squeaked out against Nicky's lips, before she pulled away, her voice wavering and tiny. “What... what's happening? What...? I-I… _Am_ I awake...?”

“It's okay,” Olceal murmured against her shoulder, making her shudder and grab hold of his arm, especially when his hand moved along her stomach.

“You are,” Nicky agreed, bunching up Basket's nightgown with Olceal's help and pulling it up, before Basket, herself, threw it off. She was scarlet, her eyes bright and hazy, and she breathed so quickly that she got dizzy, but she didn't care.

“Trust us,” Nicky added in a whisper.

“Always,” Basket gasped out; Olceal had slipped his hand beneath her underwear, while Nicky's hands reached up and cupped her now-bared breasts, flicking her thumbs over her already-hard nipples gently. “F-f-f-fuh... _fuck_...!”

She yelped that out the moment Olceal's fingers had parted the folds of her cunt and slipped them between, stroking the smooth, slick skin slowly, occasionally lingering over her clit.

Basket was brainless. She could barely breathe, now. She felt Olceal behind her, so close that she could feel his erection against the small of her back, and the fact that he was still dressed was _maddening_ to her. And if that wasn't enough, Nicky suddenly moved her head down and took one of her nipples between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing it.

Then, she truly lost it: Nicky had slid one hand down and slipped it alongside Olceal's. Their eyes met, and with a shared smile, Olceal's fingers moved up to Basket's clit, and Nicky's very slowly and carefully slid two fingers deep within her cunt, feeling a wild thrill from how easy it was and how warm it felt.

Basket jerked, her hands going to Nicky's shoulders and grabbing hold, her head lowering and tilting away, so that she hid her face. She grabbed Olceal's thigh with her tail even tighter, and she gritted her teeth, growling out a low, long groan. Her chest and shoulders were scarlet, now, and she _still_ could barely breathe.

But it got better, so much so that she actually really did forget to breathe a couple of times during it.

Nicky was a little clumsy at first, but the longer she continued, the easier it was to bring her fingers to a rhythm that she could tell Basket loved. The moment Nicky finally got her stride, Olceal matched it, and immediately, Basket arched between them, moving her backside against Olceal, right along his erection and making sure it counted.

It did; he shuddered, his other hand moving to yank down his pyjama bottoms. When she felt that, between gasps, she grinned in triumph. She loved making Olceal crazy.

And she _was_. Olceal was panting by the time he'd kicked them off, using both of his hands, now, to reach beneath Basket and take hold of her underwear, pulling them off quickly and tossing them to the floor.

When this happened, Nicky suddenly found herself confused – and still aroused. It was obvious that Olceal and Basket would start to have sex within the next few minutes, and Nicky had absolutely no idea what she should do.

Should she stay? Should she leave? What _could_ she possibly do?

But then, Basket suddenly grabbed hold of Nicky's pyjamas, her hands shaking and desperate, as Olceal pressed against her back, nuzzling her neck again and rubbing his cock gently against her back. His eyes opened and met Nicky's, again, just as Basket kissed her neck and tugged her pants off – she'd already thrown her shirt off at a speed that Nicky rather admired – and he smiled.

It was a small, coy gesture, but it made Nicky feel a wave of heat that threatened to consume her entire body.

In that moment, she knew: she was sexually attracted to Olceal, too – and was amazed by it.

For someone who'd spent nearly thirty years devoid of it, Nicky found herself reeling with it, and also realised that she rather liked it.

Basket suddenly kissed her lips, pulling her now-naked body close – before she reached back and grabbed hold of Olceal's cock. He jerked, gasping out her name in surprise, and Nicky felt her grin a little against her lips. She parted her legs, lifting one up and moving it back, and Olceal grabbed it and moved between them.

Basket moved her hand away, just as Olceal pushed himself deep into her, and the moment that happened, several interesting things happened in return.

First, Basket laughed, breaking away from Nicky to tilt her head back and press her cheek against Olceal's for a moment. He was keeping himself still within her, teasing her, and she grinned wider, baring her teeth at him. This was something they did a lot, as it made the payoff sweeter. Sex, to them, was often a game, a puzzle, and like the monsters they were, they played that game with enthusiasm.

Then, since Basket's arms were still around Nicky, however, she inadvertently brought Nicky flat against her, and the moment that happened, Nicky buried her face into Basket's shoulder and moaned, the feel of their bodies together making her even more aroused, something she never thought was even _possible_.

Basket's eyes flared, then, her face lighting up. She had a brilliant idea. With a smirk to Olceal, Basket pulled away from him completely, bringing a strangled groan of protest from him, and instead grabbed hold of Nicky, moving her closer and pinning her onto her back. Nicky went scarlet this time, her eyes glittering, and she slid her arms around Basket's neck.

Olceal then blinked in understanding, especially when Basket looked over at him rather pointedly.

“Get. Over. Here,” she growled, still trembling. She hadn't stopped since this began. She couldn't help it. This was practically a dream come true.

Olceal grinned in return and got to his knees, moving behind her and pushing close. She shifted a little, arching a little to make it easier for him, and with that, he was hers; he grabbed her generous hips and buried himself deep within her again. For a moment, Basket couldn't help herself, and she moved back to meet him, and for that moment, they fucked, slow and lingering, but with no less passion. They both cried out, their eyes closing, and they held each other tight.

Beneath them, Nicky squirmed, her hand moving down between her legs without thought and touching herself, her eyes wide and her breaths fast. She trailed her fingers slowly along her slick, wet folds, her eyes fluttering and her tongue snaking out to lick her lips, spellbound.

They were so _beautiful_ to her in that moment, and not just sexually, this time. That was a major factor, yes, but it was mostly the fact that they fucked in such a way that spoke of love and devotion, as well as lust, a way that clearly displayed how deeply they loved each other – and had for years.

And it was _beautiful_.

Basket then grabbed Nicky's hips, surprising her; Basket was actually rather strong, from years of carrying stacks of books, and she did it with surprising ease. Olceal then waited, twitching a little in anticipation and eagerness, watching them both closely with bated breath and growing excitement.

“Grab me,” she whispered to Nicky.

Nicky blinked, then understood, and she wrapped her legs around Basket's waist, while Basket held her up and kept her close. Nicky clung to her, her eyes wide and now on Olceal's, finding a mirror within his gaze, and they both smiled, sharing that same feeling, that same surge of emotion.

Gently, Basket reached down and touched the soft fur covering Nicky's cunt, making her sigh and relax. When she heard that, Basket slipped her fingers between those folds, touching for a moment, before taking hold of Nicky's hips and shifting them up – and hers own down.

Nicky yelped; it was imperfect friction, lacking direct contact between the two, but friction nonetheless, and she felt it through her entire body. Her cunt rubbed hard against what she knew was Basket's pelvic bone, and while it wasn't as intense or as sweet, it was still very, very good.

 _“Move,”_ Basket then hissed, shifting her hips back against Olceal and making him grunt. Nicky clung onto Basket tight, which was good, because the moment Olceal started to move, Nicky was the one who lost her brain.

Basket kept one arm around Nicky's waist, making sure she stayed close, while she held herself up with the other. Olceal held her not by her hips, now, but by Nicky's, something that made all three of them giggle when he did. But Nicky didn’t protest, so he kept hold – and started not just fucking Basket, but also Nicky, too, in this intensely shared way.

And it was so, _so_ _very good._

He started slow, watching Nicky the entire time, unable to help it. The moment his thrusts became consistent, Basket growled again and shuddered, moving along with him, which in turn had Nicky moving, too. It was why he couldn't help looking at Nicky; not only was she facing him, but the sight of her pleasure was new to him, and he wanted to learn how to make it peak.

And the longer Olceal watched her, the more _he_ realised that, this time, it wasn't just Basket who made her feel this way, but him, now, too. And it both flattered and amazed him. To feel Basket clutching his cock tight within her cunt was already glorious, but to also see Nicky move alongside her, being pleasured by both himself and Basket, was _exhilarating_.

Basket's eyes were closed tight, her face buried into Nicky's shoulder. Every breath was either a soft cry or a hoarse grunt, and she couldn't help it. She'd never, ever felt this way before. She felt like she was burning up with pure lust, her whole being consumed by it, and it was almost too much. She kept wondering if this was real, and luckily, constantly, she was reminded that it was.

She felt so sensitive, so drunk, so in love, and she, to her annoyance, felt her eyes sting with tears. She hurriedly blinked them back, but with every shared stroke of their bodies together, she was finding it difficult.

Nicky, herself, was absolutely devoured by both love and lust, feelings she had never known just a week ago, and was now addicted to them both – at least in this moment, and especially given her company. She tried to keep eye-contact with Olceal, but every time she felt Basket rub against her, in time with every thrust Olceal made within _her_ , she felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and soon, she buried her face into Basket's shoulder, flashing hot and crying out. Again, she was stunned by how fast her body crested toward orgasm, as on her own it was _nowhere_ near this fast.

“I'm close, I’m _so_ close, I'm so cl- _close_ ,” she gasped out, shocking all three of them. “Please...? D-don't stop... _please_...?”

Basket was feeling the same way, and the sound of Nicky's begging intensified it. It was inevitable, really; she was not only feeling the deep, rich pleasure that was from Olceal's long, lingering thrusts within her, but added pleasure whenever she felt Nicky push against her, occasionally pressing against her clit. She was losing her mind, it felt that good, and she couldn't help it: her claws bit into Nicky's lower back, and she grunted in reply, her breaths starting to grow hoarse.

However, it was then that something potentially unfortunate happened, through no fault of any of them.

Nickname started crying out consistently, and she became clumsy and desperate. Olceal saw all of it, feeling himself so aroused by her growing pleasure that he was the one who forgot to breathe a few times. Despite the moderate pace he'd set, it was clear that, given the intensity of the situation, he couldn't hold back.

The moment he realised it, he tried to slow down, but both Basket and Nicky urged him to speed up again, and he gave up. And once he gave up, it only took a few more minutes for him to come – and _hard_.

“Bass,” he gasped out, his voice breaking. “Nicky, I… I don't... I…” He closed his eyes, unable to speak for a moment, before he managed to say, “I'm so...! _Bass_...!”

Which was actually good, because seconds later, Nickname shrieked out Basket's name and came, first, grabbing both of them and shocking all three, her nails digging into Olceal's arm and Basket's shoulder. She cried out Basket's name alongside Olceal, and Nicky suddenly grabbed his hand and held it tight. He gripped it, stumbling a little in his own growing ecstasy, and he laughed hoarsely, saying Nicky's name, that time.

Basket knew exactly what that meant, and she grinned, her eyes opening and moving to look over her shoulder at him. She loved to watch him come, and this was no exception. To see Nicky falling alongside him was an even bigger thrill, and as she watched Olceal, from the corner of her eye, she watched Nicky, too.

But he didn't expect Nicky to watch him, too. She did, even as her eyes darkened and filled with shocked, happy tears, her face reddening and her smile so wide that her fangs showed. And when he saw _that_ , he lost his hold immediately – and groaned, his eyes rolling up as his orgasm overtook him, his body moving jerking as he came hard. At that, Nicky's eyes rolled up, too, and she jerked against Basket, eager to draw her own orgasm out alongside Olceal's.

Between them, Basket purred, shivering a little when she felt Olceal come inside her, hot and wet, moving back against him a little to draw it out for him, and he gasped, then grinned, shuddering alongside her. At the same time, she kept Nicky close, and thus moved for her, too, and she groaned and almost blacked out, going limp beneath them in her bliss.

Basket was overjoyed, and her tears spilled over. Seeing both of her lovers come at the same time, with her between them, was a kind of joy she'd never even dreamt of: it was too wonderful, too indescribable, and she laughed, trying to hide her tears.

Olceal then lowered his head and rested his cheek against her back, relaxing heavily against them, and when he did, Nicky reached up and shakily touched his hair, stroking it a little awkwardly but with genuine care, similarly dazed and spent.

Nicky was stunned. She realised how interesting it was to watch someone reach orgasm, and was now unsurprised by how it had made her orgasm, too. She realised how intense it was, how it made each person react differently and in a private, unique way. She'd felt this when she'd watched Basket come – twice – last night, and felt it once more as she watched Olceal: amazement, awe, and affection.

She also knew that, by sharing this with her, both Basket and Olceal were baring their utmost vulnerability to her, and trusted her to not hurt or punish them for that trust.

She vowed in that moment never to betray them this trust. She felt so welcome into their lives, so wanted and loved, that she knew she never would.

And she was right.

When she felt herself suddenly laid back down on the bed, Nicky blinked back to herself, looking up. Basket grinned down at her, her eyes still bright and wild, and suddenly, Nicky was hers.

It was that easy.

Basket shifted a bit, angling herself so that she and Nicky were pressed close completely, now. The moment that happened, Nicky clung to Basket tight, gasping. Basket had already felt so hot and slick before, but now? Now, it was something completely different – but no less intoxicating.

“Please,” Nicky whispered, then.

When she did, she suddenly found herself kissed – but not by Basket. It was Olceal, who was now lying down beside them, propped up on one elbow in order to kiss Nicky's lips, and deeply. Basket moved herself up a little to give him room, grinning – especially when Nicky wrapped an arm around Olceal's neck and returned that kiss with increasing fervour. Her other arm slid down, and she grabbed hold of Basket's hip, instead.

With that, Basket moved, setting the pace and increasing it, too. Nicky moaned against Olceal's lips, moving in time with that new speed, the aftershocks short but sweet, and Basket gasped, closing her eyes again. When she felt them burn again, she let them, as she knew both Olceal and Nicky would not see it.

It only took a couple of minutes for Basket to come, and even then, she admired her own stamina, given the situation she was in. She staggered, stumbling to keep herself up and on her hands, so that she wouldn't fall on either of them. Between cries, she first said Olceal's name, the Nicky's, before simply whimpering, unable to keep the thrilled grin held back – as well as her tears, at last.

When she stumbled again, feeling a small hiccup, she suddenly found herself in Nicky's arms; her own arms had finally given out, and Nicky managed to catch her before she landed on Olceal. It was just as well, because now, Basket couldn't move. She shuddered in Nicky's arms, burying her face into her soft shoulder, still smiling – and still weeping.

She then felt Olceal wrap himself around her, and she sighed deeply between sniffles.

“Bassy?” he murmured, stroking her sweaty hair slowly.

When he said that, Nicky opened her eyes and glanced down at her, finally seeing her tears. Basket nodded and shifted closer, murmuring a little with how good it felt, but Nicky touched her cheek and brushed the tears away, and she shut her eyes.

“Bass,” Nicky whispered.

Basket shook her head. “J-just... give me... a-a second...” she answered, reaching up and rubbing her face. “I-I... I'm-I'm...” She choked on her words and went quiet.

“Honey?” Olceal broke in, and she sighed, closing her eyes and biting her lip.

“What's wrong?” Nicky asked.

“Nothing,” Basket answered right away. “I-I'm not sad...” She was being honest. “I'm... s-so... so h- _happy_...”

She raised her head, looking down at Nicky, who was staring back, her own eyes wavering a little. She touched Nicky's cheek, feeling how warm and soft it was, and she sniffled, swallowing hard.

Then, she looked up at Olceal, over her shoulder, and reached back with her tail, curling it around his own.

“I'm... I-I'm...” she stammered, her eyes overflowing again. “I-I w-want… Nicky, Olly, I-I know we j-just did, b-but I st-still want you again, so-so much, pl-please…?”

Then, she reached back with one hand and, surprising Olceal into jolting, closed it over his – she noticed with a grin and a glint to her eyes – hardening cock, and stroked it gently, before shifting her hips against Nicky's. Nicky closed her eyes and cried out, moving to meet it, and for a moment, she and Basket kissed, while Basket's hand slid fast along Olceal's cock.

Then, she sat up, shocking Nicky, until she moved away from both of them, and knelt down beside them, her eyes gleaming.

They stared at her for a moment, then looked at each other, before, suddenly, they both lunged for the other and kissed, Nicky grabbing hold of him around his neck and waist. Olceal moved down and touched her for a moment, just to see her react.

When her eyes closed, she also whispered his name against his lips – before she added, “Yes, again... Please...?” between breaths.

Olceal relaxed, moved close, and pressed down, holding his cock as he led it towards her cunt. He remembered, and, with softer, gentler kisses, he slowly pushed himself within her, watching her closely and making sure he wasn't hurting her; he remembered what had happened with Basket, and while he hadn't hurt _her_ , she had still bled. He wasn't sure if Nicky would be hurt or not – and didn't want to risk worsening it if she did.

But he needn't of worried. She was already so aroused, so engulfed by desire, and she was so slick, that it was easy. Any resistance there was, she barely felt, because the moment she felt him within her, there was nothing else.

For a moment, they froze, breaking apart to just look at each other, allowing the gravity of what they'd just done weigh them down. But then, instead of feeling heavy, they felt rather weightless, and they both smiled, before they resumed their kiss – and Olceal began to move.

Basket moved closer, her whole body blazing with the heat of her desire as she watched them fuck. She knew she already came, but seeing the two of them together, and so passionately, set her alight, and she couldn't help it.

She thought she would be jealous, or hurt, or angry, as it was, in any other context, rather heartbreaking: the two people she loved most in the world leaving her behind and loving each other. And while she allowed that thought some air for a moment, she smothered it the moment she caught up with what she was actually feeling.

Basket's hand slipped between her legs and stroked along the still-dripping folds of her cunt slowly, her eyes wide and her mouth dry. She loved them both so much in that moment, and her other hand went to her breast, squirming a little.

When he saw that, Olceal suddenly reached over to her and touched the inside of her thigh, trailing his fingers along the skin. She shivered and moved closer, then sat up on her knees and kissed him, pulling his hand back to replace her own between her legs.

“Bassy,” Nicky then gasped out, reaching out to her. Olceal stopped, suddenly worried, but then she added, “Come here.”

Basket was so needy, now, that she immediately obeyed, trembling again with that need, and she moved down to kiss her.

Nicky stopped her, instead, and said, her face going crimson, “Let me... with you... while we... yeah...?” She raised her hand to her lips, then pointed to Basket, as she spoke, before it simply dropped when she lost all words; Olceal was starting to move inside her again, unable to help it, and it was a lovely distraction.

It was practically nonsense, and while Olceal was confused, Basket was not. She stared at Nicky. “Are-are you s-serious?” she squeaked out. “I'm h-heavy, Nicky!”

“Yes, for the love of _pie_ , Bassy!” Nicky suddenly cried, losing her composure. She wanted to lick her, pleasure her, while Olceal did the same for herself. “Please, I want you to, _please_! I... I want to... taste you!”

Olceal suddenly grinned, understanding. “She… tastes great, Nicks,” he admitted, even as he still moved. “Fucking amazing.”

Basket swallowed hard, then nodded, though she shot Olceal a shy look, inwardly pleased to hear that.

Shakily, she moved up more, then very carefully moved to straddle Nicky's face. She held herself up, too scared to move down – and Nicky lost her patience. She grabbed Basket around her waist and yanked her down, and in that moment, Nicky finally got her wish.

Basket cried out in shock, about to move away, but Nicky dug her fingers into her skin and stopped her, at the same time snaking her tongue out and along the folds of Basket's cunt, her eyes rolling up the moment she did.

And with that, Basket forgot why she was protesting, and completely lost her mind – yet again. She laughed in shock, her hands grabbing hold of the headboard, and she felt Nicky chuckle in return – which only made her laugh again; it tickled.

Then, gently, Nicky shifted her hips up and against Olceal's, and he gasped, this time, before he moved to meet it. He pushed himself up on his knees and wrapped Nicky's legs tighter around his waist, and she shivered, one hand reaching out and grabbing hold of his knee.

As he watched Nicky pleasure his – _their_ – wife with her lips and tongue, he started to move with more focus, keeping his pace slow and his thrusts long and lingering in order to please _her_.

It was incredible. All three of them were contained in this shared, lingering bliss, again, and there was nothing else in the world beyond it.

Olceal reached forward with one hand and pressed it to Basket's already-sweat-coated back, and she jumped – before relaxing and purring again, especially when, with his touch, she felt how he moved, and decided to match that pace, too. Nicky made a soft noise at that, one that worried Basket, until she looked down, and found that Nicky was not only perfectly fine, but scarlet with her emotions, her eyes closed and a small smile flickering to her lips – when they could be seen.

Clearly, there was no problem for any of them at this moment.

When Nicky fully registered what it was she was tasting, she wondered if she should feel grossed out or offended or something. After all, it wasn't _just_ Basket she tasted. But in reality, when she realised that, she felt a sharp lance of lust strike her belly, and she decided she not only didn't find it gross – but liked it.

To her, it was a good indicator of the future to come.

Basket was absolutely, without question already close, again. Between feeling Nicky's tongue upon her most sensitive skin, the feel of Nicky and Olceal both moving together, and the feel of Olceal's hands now on her shoulders, she was losing it, and fast. In fact, it was mere minutes into it that she felt her control fraying thinner and thinner – until she felt Olceal's claws bite into her skin, and heard him gasp.

When she heard that, she groaned, her eyes rolling up and her body staggering, and she came again, _hard_ , so hard that she couldn't even say a word. All she could do was cry out nonsense.

The moment it began to fade, Basket let herself fall to the side, then curl up and off of Nicky, instead, moving to lie down beside her. She was shaky and breathless, and when she was still, she slipped into a kind of stunned, satiated daze.

Nicky reached up, then, and pulled Olceal down to her, kissing his lips the second she could. She held onto him tight, her face bright red and her eyes squeezing shut, her cries increasing the longer Olceal moved with her, and within her.

Making Basket come – again – was already one thing, but to also have Olceal in this way, this close, was another. He could tell, and he returned her kiss and deepened it, smiling faintly when their tongues met; it was a taste he already knew.

That was all she needed, now, and she pulled back, arching up against him and keening out, feeling an orgasm overtake her yet again and knock her senseless. Olceal couldn't help it, either, and when he heard and felt her coming, he gritted his teeth and followed her, gasping out her name and reeling from it.

As it faded, the two collapsed beside Basket, who stirred a little when she felt that. She reached out, and Olceal slowly slid down off of Nicky and moved between her and Basket, curling into Basket's arms. Then, he felt Nicky wrap around him from behind, and he closed his eyes, shivering happily.

“Fuh... fuck,” Basket whispered after a moment, barely even aware that she did. She reached over and touched Nicky's cheek, and Nicky opened her eyes slowly, their colour dark – but glittering.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Basket saw worry and doubt in Nicky's eyes - clearly, she was wondering if Basket had been upset by her and Olceal.

So when Basket began to stroke her hair, the breath she held hissed out, and she closed her eyes in relief. It made Basket smile affectionately, and at the same time, she pulled Olceal closer, too, and he buried his face into her chest, sighing happily.

She wasn't jealous or upset at all. She was tired, blissfully tired, and dazed, especially when she paused to think about what had just concluded, but there was no jealousy, there.

“Are you okay, Nicky?” Olceal then asked weakly, pulling away from Basket with his eyes fluttering open. “Did it hurt? Are... are you hurt?”

Nickname frowned, thinking. She felt a little sore, true, and when she reached down and checked, there was a tiny amount of blood, but on the whole, she felt wonderful. Truly wonderful. There was no way she would be able to do something like this again very often, but she had truly enjoyed every second of it.

“I feel fine,” she replied, kissing the back of his sweaty head, and he sighed in relief.

Basket looked up, her mouth open, but Nicky grinned and added, “No, Bassy, you didn't hurt or suffocate me. I asked you to, remember?”

Basket went crimson and nodded, squirming a little from the memory, but she felt better.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Basket then added, her eyes closing and her whole body relaxing. She laughed softly, her hand on her chest, and again, she couldn't help it – she started to cry.

It wasn't a soft cry, not like it had been, before. Instead, it was one that made her gasp and sob, made her eyes and nose run, and shook her whole body. She tried to shut up, going so far as to turn and hide her face into the pillows, but even then, it was merely muffled – and still hurt. A lot.

Olceal shifted closer, and the comfort of his soft, fuzzy skin helped a great deal, so much so that she turned back to him and clung onto him, her face going to his shoulder, instead. He stroked her hair and kissed her a few times, but she couldn't stop.

Not even when she felt Nicky move around to cuddle behind her and wrap around her, too – and in turn felt her and Olceal embrace each other, as well.

When that happened, her eyes snapped open, and she choked, trying to speak.

Nicky and Olceal glanced at each other, however, they shared the same thought: they understood exactly why Basket wept, and didn't fault her for it. Rather, they simple snuggled closer, held her tighter between them, now, and she stopped fighting it. She practically bawled in their arms, both elated and miserable, heartwarmed and heartbroken, but she also knew, without question, that she was safe – and loved.

Nicky buried her own face into Basket's soft, bed-mussed hair, and closed her own tear-filled eyes, breathing in Basket's scent as well as taking comfort from how she simply felt in her arms.

Olceal rested his cheek against Basket's, his own eyes closed and full, too. He felt so much, all at once: bewilderment, happiness, confusion, elation, despair... but, just like the two he held, he also felt love most of all.

It took a long time for them to calm down, especially when they remembered where they needed to be in mere hours – and why.

By the time they'd managed it, they were on the way to being late.

“Sorry,' Basket whispered weakly. “I'll go shower first--,”

Both Nicky and Olceal stopped her, surprising her.

Then, Nicky blurted out, “We should share it.”

Both Basket and Olceal turned to her at that, wearing similar expressions of shock – and agreement. They both smiled, and Basket darted forward and kissed her nose, nodding.

Together, they did just that. And it was yet another first for Nickname.

And those firsts would only get better from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL NOT BE SEX, I SWEAR TO FUCK.


	3. Family (Heartlines)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted within the Friskriel100 collection, but I realised it was better placed here, and I removed it from that collection to here.

Nicky loved her birthday.

Certainly, as she was growing up, it was for the standard reason: an entire day for herself, all about herself, and with presents. Being the centre of attention was always a treat, and when Nicky received that treat, she savoured it.

But then, there were moments like these. The moments she spent somewhat away from them all just to watch and observe them. Their group was so strange and mixed up, and one would think that a single room housing people so different would be insanity, a welcome stage for fights to be displayed.

This, however, never happened when Nicky's family got together. The closest things that could be called conflict were silly things, small things that always pop up when a family is put together again for a certain amount of time. But those things were almost funny in retrospect, and would sometimes even be fuel for jokes and silly tales.

Her parents, for example, were always like that. Asriel and Frisk wove words like a tapestry, especially when they were teasing each other, and they enjoyed trying to one-up the other as many times as possible.

As someone used to such banter, Nicky could and did easily laugh off these exchanges and went elsewhere - as she knew to stay would just encourage them. But everyone else would stay and actually start betting on who would give up first, making a game into another game so quickly it always made Nicky laugh.

Not that the others didn't try to get in on it. sans was especially fond of this, loving to twist their words around and drive them both crazy - Asriel, especially.

Growing up, Nicky had always sensed something... hidden in her uncle, and not the usual kind of hidden that people always associated with him. It had nothing to do with the power she knew he had. Rather, it wasn't until before she turned twenty that she understood - and it was only from pure chance and circumstance.

And sans, she knew, loathed that she knew that part of him, loathed that she knew his greatest weakness.

But she would never exploit it, and eventually, sans knew that, too, and started to relax around her once more.

With that came trust, on both sides, Nicky knew. sans trusted her to keep his secret from her parents - especially Asriel - and in turn, Nicky trusted him with a great deal of her own secrets.

In fact, it was sans who knew her own sexuality before she even had come to terms with it.

The moment she'd sat down to tell him, he held up a hand, reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like a playing card. She was instantly struck speechless by this, which wasn't hard for him to do to her.

With his grin, he held it up, and said, "think you're gonna need a few of these in the future, nick."

And he flipped it over, showing her the Ace of Spades.

Needless to say, it was not only a great way to break the ice, but it also made her feel far more confident about being open with it. Once everyone knew, sans would openly tease her about it, but not in a cruel way.

His default was his favourite, which was always, "hey nick, i'm playing cards later and could use an ace up my sleeve."

She loved him for it.

Papyrus she loved for different reasons, but they were still good ones. He, from the start, had always been probably the most genuine with her, never once lying when asked anything, and always he spoke to her like he would an adult.

As she grew older, she found his kindness to be almost indispensable at times, and in her darkest moments she would always seek him out for advice or some kind of comfort - something he'd always provide. She learned a lot from him, especially when it came to appreciating the things already around her, as Papyrus always seemed to find _something_ new and fascinating, no matter how many years went by on the surface.

Her grandparents, however, would always be high on that list.

Asgore's gentle patience and Toriel's fierce protectiveness were together a woven blanket that Nicky had worn for most of her life - one she would only relinquish with a fight, too. Despite the circumstances, Toriel and Asgore loved her completely, and she could always count on them, especially when it felt like she could count on no other.

And then, of course, there were her aunts and their daughters, people she loved so much she refused to separate them by blood and include them as family.

Undyne and Alphys were, to Nicky, second only to her parents (and perhaps a close second with her grandparents), and she grew up always around them, even after they had children of their own - first Basket, then Dandelion.

Nicky's eyes fell on Basket now, and she smiled, a jab hitting her heart.

 _Basket_.

She'd always love Basket the best, really - there was no use in trying to hide that fact. When they had both been younger, and Nicky suddenly realised how deep Basket's love for her ran, she'd felt terrible, so certain she'd lose her best friend in the whole world, over something she couldn't control - though for the first time, she wished she could. Basket was so loud and honest, so forthright and silly, that it was impossible not to love her.

To lose her over that threatened to break Nicky's heart for quite some time.

But eventually, Basket bounced back, like she usually did. She was caught by someone that everyone was certain would never even reach out for her, but once she was in his arms, she stayed there, quite happy and content - something that was obvious with how she acted whenever in the same company as Olceal, who was now her husband.

Once, shortly after the wedding, Basket asked Nicky privately about the whole thing.

"Is this stupid? Am I fucking things up?" she had stammered, pacing back and forth in front of Nicky so many times she was dizzy. "Should I just not bother? Was this too much?!"

"Bass!" Nicky had begged. "Please stop! You know him better than any of us, so you tell me!"

Basket had paused, as if this were the first time anyone had asked her to. "Er, well," she considered. "He had a ring long before I even thought of asking, so... no?"

Nicky laughed; that had been easy. "Well, then, what's the issue?"

That's when Basket's eyes landed on Nicky's and didn't look away. "N-Nicky, I..." she tried. "I-I'm... I..."

"No," Nicky answered, standing up and putting one hand on her shoulder, the other on her cheek. Basket looked at her, her eyes wavering a little, but Nicky shook her head. "No, Bassy," she insisted. "Don't."

"O-okay," Basket bit her lip, then looked down, pulling out of Nicky's touch. "R-right... but... it's-it's just, he-he knows, and..."

"No," Nicky repeated, her tone harder, now. "Basket, I'm sorry, but no."

Basket nodded shakily, still looking down at her feet, her hands tangled in front of her.

"Th-then... nothing's holding m-me back, then," she concluded at last.

It was true: nothing would hold her back from marrying Olceal, and while it seemed like, at first, she'd rushed into it, it turned out to be a great thing, indeed. Their travels together had brought them closer, and now that they were home, they didn't want that closeness to end - at all. They were both friends as well as lovers, and it was merely putting a more legalised spin on the whole thing, but it made the difference.

Basket didn't seem as afraid of losing Olceal, anymore, and Olceal, himself, had grown more confident and open with everyone else in Basket's family.

Seeing them now, laughing alongside the others, made Nicky feel all the more better for her part in the whole thing. She wondered if she would eventually regret it, but so far, years later, things were still good, and she had yet to eat her own words.

By then, however, she was certain she wouldn't need to.

Her eyes fell on Dandelion, then, and she paused, considering. Dandelion was the youngest of their little group, a kind of anomaly that no one had expected but, once happened, wanted to make sure remained that way. She was born considerably later than what was usual for monsters, but neither Alphys nor Undyne allowed their age to affect them, at least not enough to keep them from raising their second daughter.

Dandelion was a kind of manifestation of what it meant to be in love for decades and still have so much more to give, as it was clear that this was the case for Alphys and Undyne.

Dandelion was too young to truly understand her importance, but that didn't stop others from doing so. Pretty much when anyone had a chance to either look at or speak to Dandelion, they realised rather quickly why she was who she was. She was always flattered, but it would be years before she understood the meaning behind the gestures: _you helped your mothers stay in one piece, and in many different ways._

But Nicky understood them. She'd grown up similarly, after all: a slight accident, one completely unprepared for, but once it was reality, no one wanted anything else. Growing up, she always heard people talk about just how important she was to everyone, and what just being happy and healthy meant to those same people, but she never was able to put a value on that, nor did she really understand beyond "happy accident", really.

When she grew up, however, she realised it was literally: that by literally just existing, Nicky represented a utopia that could only be achieved with hard work and perseverance. The monsters had that, but the humans? Perhaps they hadn't, not really - at least not until Nicky was born and put a face to the manner, at least.

Could she resent them that?

Probably.

But she didn't.

Nicky smiled faintly. When it came to how wonderful it was to grow up surrounded by people, people who loved her very much and who would practically die for her chance to live, it was hard to even consider resentment seriously. She'd been so loved and cherished from the start that she couldn't help but return that love with everything she could.

They were her family, no matter what, and she'd do anything she could to make them happy - at least as happy as they'd made her.

If it meant spending her whole life making sure it happened, well, it was going to be a life well-spent, then.


	4. Sunshine (Knight)

When Undyne walked into the hospital room, her eye was wide and almost... worried. Alphys held her hand and led her in, but she walked slowly, her mouth tiny and her hands shaking.

Nicky had just finished burping Storm, and was now resting, as Basket held Storm and rocked her, gently. Olceal watched, his arms around Nicky, and Nicky rested against him tiredly, her eyes closed – but her smile remaining.

Undyne froze when her eye fell on Storm, and she couldn't breathe for a moment. Seeing Basket not only holding onto a baby with clear and open love and joy was one thing, but to remember that said baby was Undyne's baby's own baby made Undyne's brain short-circuit a little.

She still had trouble remembering that _Basket_ was no longer a baby.

Behind her, Dandelion slipped in and rushed over, startling everyone but Basket – who'd been waiting for her with a wry smile.

“Gimme!” Dandelion demanded, her smile wide and her hands held out. “I wanna hold my niece!”

Nicky laughed softly at that. “Oh golly, that's true, isn't it?” she replied, her eyes opening and meeting Dandelion's with affection.

“Yes!” Dandelion agreed. “Bassy, stop hogging her!”

“She's _my_ daughter, you brat!” Basket answered, though she was smiling. “I can hog her all I want!”

Storm, who'd been sleepily staring up at her mom, blinked at her aunt, now, curious and bemused. She made a few noises, and her hands wiggled a little – as did her feet.

“See, she wants me to!” Dandelion declared.

But suddenly, Undyne was there, and her arms were held out. She met Basket's gaze, and the expression on her face made Basket pause in surprise: she looked ready to cry. Silently, Basket adjusted her hold, and placed her daughter into her mother's arms.

“Hey!” Dandelion protested, but Undyne's expression shut her up, and she blushed. In her embarrassment, she went over to Nicky and hugged her, and Nicky hugged her back, a little weakly but with no less affection.

Undyne stared into the eyes of her granddaughter, at last, and found her staring back with deep curiosity, her hands reaching up as she made soft noises, her own kind of greeting.

And Undyne sobbed, her eyes filling with tears. She sat down on the closest chair, unable to focus on anything or anyone else, and she cried, holding Storm gently but closely, one hand carefully petting her soft auburn hair.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, surprised by Undyne's naked emotions, but Undyne didn't notice. She could see so much of Basket, true, but she could also clearly see Nicky and Olceal, and it moved her, shaking her to the core.

“Undyne?” Alphys called softly, leaning down and touching her cheek, startling her. Storm was eyeing Undyne closely, clearly perplexed by the sight of her tears, but she still reached for her.

“Alphy,” Undyne whispered, her eye wide and constantly filling with more tears. “Alphy... I… I’m…” She choked, then leaned down and pressed her forehead to Storm's, her eye closing. Immediately, she felt her hair grabbed and pulled on, and she gasped out a laugh, kissing Storm's little nose – and perplexing her, further.

“Mom?” Basket then said, kneeling down beside the chair and peering up at her, one hand reaching up to touch her daughter's back.

“Bassy,” Undyne answered, turning to her and staring at her. “I... I never thought... I didn't ever think... Especially when... and...”

“Auntie Undyne,” Nicky broke in, her voice soft. “One thought at a time...? Please?”

Undyne stared at her, then stood up, walked over, and sat down on her cot, forcing Dandelion to move (which had her scowling and grumbling). She reached out with one hand and grabbed Nicky's, her eye darting between Nicky's.

“Thank you,” Undyne whispered. She felt her hair tugged on again, and she winced, but smiled. “I... I’m…”

When she broke down, again, Alphys rescued her. She went to her side and touched her shoulder, and Undyne leaned into her side and wept. Gently, Olceal prised Storm's fingers out of her hair, and he lifted her free and into his own arms – just as Undyne started to sob. She turned and clung to her wife, her sobs violent, but Alphys understood.

“Wh-when she got... sh-shot,” she explained, her tone gentle. “And... a-and when I was... making the cure. She... she figured her life was over, both times, and never expected _anything_ like this.”

Undyne nodded gratefully, unable to speak.

Dandelion’s expression softened; this was something she understood, too. In her short life, she'd witness horrific crimes against her family, and many involved her parents. She'd had to watch first-hand as either Undyne or Alphys – or both – faced death and nearly lose. Therefore, when compared to a sudden new, fragile life beginning, it was the best kind of surprise present.

Basket noticed, and hugged her sister tight, not saying a word. Dandelion hugged back, whispering, “I'm glad you have a baby.”

“Why, Fluff?”

“Because you won't die so easily, anymore.”

Basket pulled away, her eyes wide, but Dandelion glared at her, her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. “Dandy, I… I-I’m not...”

“Not anymore,” Dandelion agreed, her voice so sharp, it hurt. “So, now, it means forever, too.”

It wasn't a question, but Basket nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “Forever.”

For which she was clung to, again, and in truth, she clung back, loving her little sister so much that it hurt, too.

“Please let me babysit,” Undyne suddenly begged, her face still buried into her wife's shoulder. “Please, I _want_ to, any time, please...?”

Nicky laughed in delight. “Auntie Undyne, I don't think you should offer that; we may take you seriously.”

But Undyne suddenly got to her feet and walked over to her daughter-in-law, leaning down and hugging her tight. Nicky squeaked with surprise as well as a bit of pain, but hugged back, smiling.

“Please,” Undyne insisted tearfully. “I mean it.”

“Okay,” Nicky replied, meaning it. “Thank you...”

 _“Gimme!”_ Dandelion said again, the moment she was done hugging Basket. She stared at Olceal, her arms held out, and he smiled, knelt down, and very carefully, helped settle Storm in her arms.

Storm looked even more confused, clearly starting to get a little overwhelmed by how much she was being held and spoken to. She was mere hours old, and she was already tired. But her eyes met her aunt's, anyway, and she reached up and grabbed onto her long hair, tugging hard.

“Gah!” Dandelion cried, wincing – but tightening her hold around Storm. She grinned, her eyes watery. “She's really strong!”

“Doi,” Basket replied. “She's _my_ kid.”

Olceal glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest, and she grinned at him. Nicky, however, wasn't offended; she was well aware that Basket was stronger than her, and rather liked it.

After all, it was that strength that brought the three of them closer – and brought Storm into the world, too.

“She's so weird and pretty,” Dandelion concluded. “Can I take pictures, now?”

That made everyone cheer up, and even Undyne managed to calm her tears for the duration it took. (Unknown to all of them was the fact that Alphys had set up her phone to the side, and had been recording everything the entire time.)

But once Dandelion got as many as she could, Nicky suddenly said, “Can you...? Can you ask my parents to come, now?”

Undyne smiled, and Alphys nodded. “Yeah!” Undyne agreed, though Dandelion looked cranky; it meant that she had to leave – but at least Undyne did, too.

With several rounds of hugs and kisses – and more tears from Undyne – she and Dandelion left, and soon, Frisk and Asriel came in and took their place.

They both froze, too, when they saw Nicky and Storm, their eyes widening. Frisk grabbed Asriel's arm, just as he grabbed for hers, and they wobbled a little; even now, they could barely believe this was real.

“Mami, Papi, please come here,” Nicky called gently, smiling warmly at them. They nodded, and both Basket and Olceal looked away – and smothered giggles, made worse when their parents-in-law walked together to the bed.

Frisk sat down on the bed, while Asriel slumped into the chair. Nicky smiled at Frisk, then Asriel, before asking, “Who wants to hold her, first?”

Frisk immediately leaned back, her hands resting in her lap, and Asriel blinked at her in surprise. But she nodded, her smile wide, so he held out his hands, and took hold of his granddaughter for the first time.

He stared at her, speechless. She was so _small_ , smaller than Nicky had been, and yet Storm had so much of Nicky in her that Asriel felt like he was back in time. Storm blinked up at him slowly, fussing a little, and he bit his lip, tears filling his eyes.

Frisk moved over to him and leaned close, her arms going around him, one hand reaching out and touching the top of Storm's head gently. She was also speechless, also in tears, but she was grinning. Asriel leaned down and pressed his forehead to Storm's, taking in her scent, and he sobbed softly; she even smelt a little like Nicky...

“She's _beautiful_ ,” Frisk whispered. Storm grabbed at her arm, and she laughed softly. She, too, felt like she was back in time, despite knowing better.

And in that moment, she remembered how it was for _her_ parents, when they'd first held Nicky: shocked wonder, and sheer delight, at the fact that Nicky not only existed at all, but what she represented.

Storm represented something, too. Frisk bit her lip when she realised it, and her smile vanished. She lowered her head, pulling her hands back and holding onto Asriel's shoulders, and she hid her face into the back of his head.

“Mami?” Nicky murmured, reaching over and covering one of her hands with her own. “Mami, what's wrong...?”

“Come here,” Frisk sobbed, moving over and hugging onto Nicky as tight as possible.

Nicky coughed, her eyes widening. “M-Mam--?”

“Nicky,” Frisk gasped out between sobs, her face hidden in her daughter's shoulder. “Thank you… for being who you are...”

Nicky blushed. “Mami, I dunno who else to be!”

“Good!” Frisk answered, before breaking down completely.

Nicky looked at her father with worry, but Asriel smiled at her, nodding. When Storm grabbed one of his ears, he laughed and looked back at her, and Nicky grinned.

“What do you think, Dad?” Olceal wondered, walking over and placing a hand on Asriel's shoulder, his other hand touching his daughter's cheek.

“Perfect,” Asriel answered right away. “I love her. She's _all_ of you, the _best_ of you, I _love_ you.”

And he turned a little and gave Olceal a kiss on his cheek, before turning back and cuddling Storm close, his eyes closed and his tears running down his cheek – but his smile was bright.

Olceal was stunned, blushing so deeply that he swayed a little, overcome with affection and shyness. It had been _years_ since he'd experienced that kind of paternal love – _decades_ – and had never expected it to ever come back.

And yet, here was Asriel, the father of his second wife, treating him like a son, as if he'd _always_ been his son.

Basket darted over and grabbed her husband quickly, just as he swayed in a worrisome way. He immediately leaned into her embrace, sniffling, and gently, with a smile, she whispered, “I told you, my love.”

“I’m stupid,” Olceal agreed, laughing tearfully.

Asriel, oblivious (though Frisk would explain it, later), nuzzled his sleepy granddaughter, smiling brightly.

“Frisk,” he murmured, “I think you need to hold her.”

Frisk looked up, pulling away from Nicky, and Asriel smiled at her, holding Storm out to her. With wide eyes, she held out her arms, and when she held Storm, at last, her entire mind could think of no one else.

“Hello, Storm,” Frisk whispered, her eyes on Storm's, their eye-contact not breaking, save for blinks. Storm gurgled faintly, her tiny, fuzzy greenish hands reaching up and touching Frisk's silvering hair.

Frisk felt her heart open up, again; the parts that closed when her parents died. She felt those doors unlocked and flung apart again, to let this tiny little baby slip in, and she grinned, her eyes full of tears, but of joy.

Asriel then moved to Nicky and whispered into her ear. Nicky blinked, surprised, and whispered back, before Asriel laughed softly, kissing her cheek and nodding.

“Mami?” Nicky then called, her hand covering one of Frisk's.

Her mother looked up at her, beaming at her with a happiness that hadn't been seen in many, many years.

Nicky moved closer, then wrapped her arms around Frisk, holding both her and her daughter close.

“Mami,” she whispered. “I want Storm's middle name to be... I mean, it's Toriel, but… Papi just told me something, and I want... to change it.”

Frisk looked up at her, confused. “What's wrong with Toriel?”

“Nothing,” Nicky admitted. “It can be her second middle name. But I want her first to be... _Katie_.”

Frisk jolted, the blood leaving her face in shock. Her eyes went to Asriel, and he smiled warmly, nodding. (Everyone else looked incredibly confused, as the significance of the name was lost on them.)

“What...?” Frisk whispered. “You... you would... do that...?”

Nicky nodded, the look on her mother's face sealing the deal. “Yes, please.”

Frisk sobbed, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to Storm's, while leaning closer to Nicky. She nodded, and Nicky closed her eyes, holding her close.

“I don't get it,” Olceal admitted, speaking for everyone else.

“I’ll tell you when I find out,” Basket promised, satisfying him.

Asriel got a text message, then, one that simple said: _“get out.”_

He rolled his eyes, but turned to his wife and touched her cheek. “We should give the others a turn, but then come back.”

Frisk smiled and agreed, and with more hugs and kisses, they left.

Almost immediately, Papyrus ran in, dragging Mettaton behind him – who looked rather happy by it – and followed slowly by sans.

“I DEMAND TO HOLD THE TINY ADORABLE BABY, PLEASE,” Papyrus declared as his greeting, making everyone – save Storm – laugh; Storm merely tilted her head a little. Olceal obliged, and Papyrus held Storm in his gloved hands, his expression soft and surprised.

He was holding his best friend's granddaughter. _Undyne's granddaughter_ was in his hands. The Captain of the Guard, the Paladin, his hero and best friend and sister...

He'd been amazed when he'd held _her_ children. But to hold a child made by one of those children? And one who was part _human_? When the very reason he'd ever met Undyne was to _kill_ humans?

Storm stared up at him, human and goat and fishlizard and ermine... and he whispered, “HELLO, LITTLE ONE.”

He wanted to say even more, but couldn't; there was no way to word how he felt in that moment. He was so _happy_...

In another life, in several other lives, he never lived to see Undyne's children. Or, he lived long enough, only to see them die. He oddly _knew_ this, without really knowing how or why he knew, and it rendered him mute - unusual, certainly.

Mettaton noticed. He touched Papyrus's shoulder and leaned over it, smiling at Storm. “She's so pretty!” he observed.

 _“No!”_ Basket snapped, surprising everyone.

The only people who seemed to understand were Mettaton – and Alphys, who snorted and covered her mouth, giggling and wagging her tail.

“Basket,” Mettaton began, but Basket glared at him. “But, Bassy, _you_ liked it!”

 _“So?!”_ Basket answered, her own tail twitching angrily. “I don't want you to guilt her, pressure her, or manipulate her! And ask her _only_ when she's old enough to decide without wanting to just make you happy!”

“Ah,” Olceal sighed. “Yeah, no, Uncle Metta. No shows until she can decide for herself.”

Nicky rolled her eyes and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I AGREE, METTA,” Papyrus added, his eyes meeting Mettaton's.

Mettaton looked back, his expression softening, and he nodded and sighed, before leaning back down and touching Storm's cheek. Her eyes flicked to him, and he grinned.

“gimme,” sans suddenly piped in, his arms out.

Papyrus smiled and leaned down, resting Storm into his brother's arms, and he grinned and held her close.

Everyone went silent, but Nicky, especially, her eyes narrowed and sharp. She tensed, her hands clenching into her blanket. She was worried; after all, it had been mere weeks since he'd admitted he still loved Frisk.

But then, it was also when he'd admitted he'd forgiven Asriel, and years before Asriel even admitted he loved Frisk, himself.

“hullo,” sans murmured, one finger hovering over Storm's hands, making her splutter and reach for it, her feet kicking a little and her tail wagging. He let her grab it, and she pulled it to her and gurgled again, and he laughed softly. “you little _salad_ ,” he added affectionately.

Nicky watched him (Alphys did, too), and could only see tenderness from sans. There was no resentment, no disgust, no disappointment.

Just a great-uncle holding his little niece for the first time, and loving her immediately.

And with that, Nicky relaxed, and smiled with relief. She leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling her exhaustion catch up to her. She felt Basket sit down beside her and take her hand between her own, holding it to her own chest. Nicky smiled and leaned into her side, comforted.

“Hey,” Olceal murmured, noticing Nicky's exhaustion. “I think we need to cut this off, now.”

Reluctantly, sans handed Storm to him, before he went over to Nicky and hugged her tight, right after Papyrus and Mettaton took turns.

She weakly hugged back, whispering, “Thank you, Uncle.”

“she's a wonderful cocktail of our family,” he replied, “and she'll make you drunk on love.”

“Corny,” Nicky replied, but she smiled. She agreed.

When the room emptied of everyone but the family and Alphys, Nicky was already holding Storm, again, as she, too, was close to sleep. Olceal and Basket flanked her, and she felt so comforted and loved that, once again, she started to cry.

Alphys whispered, “I'll go see the others off,” which really meant, ‘I'll leave the four of you to it,' and they were grateful. She grabbed her phone, stopped recording, and left.

“Baby,” Basket whispered, when they were all settled and comfortable, her finger tracing Storm's facial features slowly. Storm's eyes slowly blinked, and when Basket's hand pressed to her forehead, those eyes closed – and she fell asleep in Nicky's arms.

“I'm magical,” Basket added with a giggle.

“You're _wonderful_ ,” Nicky corrected, kissing her hand.

“No, _you_ are,” Olceal corrected her. “You did something so fucking incredible that... that _no one_ is more wonderful than _you_ , Nicks...”

“You grew a person,” Basket agreed, and Nicky blushed, smiling. “And she's fucking _perfect_.”

Nicky sniffled. “Because she's _ours_ , my loves, not just mine.”

“Yeah,” Basket agreed, surprising her. She laid down beside Nicky and cuddled her, and Olceal followed suit.

Nicky started crying harder, feeling so loved and happy that it was the only way to convey it.

And her spouses knew this well, and held her as close as possible, in order to prove to her that they understood, and always would, even if she never said a word.

 _Always_.


	5. The Hated Truth (Knight)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Olly's turn to talk.

Olceal remembered the first time that he realised that it _wasn't_ hatred that he felt for Basket, from the start, at all.

He _thought_ it had been. The moment he'd first seen her, something in him seemed to recoil, or perhaps uncoil, if he thought back objectively. When their eyes first met, Basket's had narrowed, but then relaxed, before moving away from him and sitting down.

It made him feel _strange_.

And because he had yet to truly recover from the loss of his father, a wound still fresh and raw and bleeding, he assumed it was negative, and reacted accordingly.

It was only on the day that he'd insulted _both_ of his future wives – and earned a punch in the gut for it – that he began to wonder if it really _was_ hatred.

Because at that moment, he suddenly felt terrible for what he'd said and done, to both of them – but mostly to Basket, whose rage was oddly very painful, especially since it was justified.

He backed off.

He stopped antagonising her.

He stopped hanging out with Corala, opting instead for confused solitude.

When Corala and the rest of her gang realised he'd quit, they turned on him, too.

But never with the same vehemence as they treated Basket.

Olceal regretted the myriad times he'd hung back, too cowardly to step in and stop the violence, but too sickened by it to join in.

And every time Basket, once alone, managed to pick herself up and get back onto her feet, despite her pain and tears, he struggled to keep himself from helping her, despite how guilty it made him feel.

He didn't know _how_ he could help her, then. As far as he knew, Basket still hated him. Every time their eyes met, she flinched and looked away, as though slapped, and he did, too, feeling the exact same way.

It was only when he grew older that he started to understand what that feeling was.

It was _feeling_.

Basket made him _feel_.

Because, for just over a year after he met her, all he knew was pain and despair, the loneliness of losing a parent at such a young age, coupled with the agony of seeing his mother become crippled by that very same pain...

So when he _felt_ , something different than not, or trying not to, he found it alien and frightening, and he _hated it._

And in turn, hated _Basket_.

But he watched her.

And he started feeling... not hatred, but... weird.

Too sensitive.

Too much.

He'd seen her defend herself with the pinecones, had jolted when she'd mentioned his name – only to feel sick, inside, because she'd _sneered_ it out, making an example of him.

It had _hurt_ , more than he'd ever expected it to.

But the look in her eyes, when she was alone, again, the way she'd dropped down, huddled into a ball, and wept while hunching over a pinecone...

...that hurt eased...

And suddenly, he recognised the feeling that replaced it.

 _Affection_.

He was glad to see Basket fighting back – and _winning_. It wasn't just the relief of guilt that came with it, as now she didn't need his help, and probably never had, so he didn't need to dwell on it.

It was also relief that she was fighting, _at all._

His mother, trapped in her own despair, her own feelings, had stopped fighting, now, and simply let life rain those needless and unjustified pains upon herself. 

Like the rain of the day he knew he no longer had a father...

Like the rain his mother wept when thinking of that day...

* * *

 In third grade, when Hedwig started harassing Basket quite avidly, and before Toriel had made them write their essay, Olceal turned on them – and demanded to know _why_.

Hedwig's answer was similar to what his had been: their home life was beyond their control, a pain unmeasured, and seeing pain on another's face, instead of their own, helped soothe that pain, despite how sick Hedwig knew it was.

They couldn't help it.

They needed that outlet.

It was the only control they had left.

Olceal _hated_ Hedwig for that.

And his affection for Basket only grew.

* * *

 In fourth grade, something bad happened to Nickname – tosilitis – which in turn brought a great deal of conflict to not only the Dreemurrs, but Basket's parents, too.

She spent her recesses hiding up in her tree, waiting for Nicky to come back to school, crying whenever she was certain no one could see.

But Olceal _did_ see her. 

And he felt the desperate desire to comfort her, to make her smile, to hear her laugh...

He was lonely, now; his distancing from his past crew had made him lose them, but at least they didn't torment him for it.

By the end of that year, he was completely alone.

But he never felt it. Because he kept his eyes on Basket, whenever he could.

Now, he wanted to protect her.

He never wanted to see her crying in that tree, ever again.

* * *

He did what he could, tried to deter and distract others away from her, to other things, better outlets for their misplaced hatred.

He failed, often. But he never stopped trying.

Especially with Corala, who'd never forgiven him for turning away from her. He tried to reason with her, tried to make her see that it wasn't worth it, that Basket had a powerful family, in hopes of scaring the human away, but...

Corala persisted. And he couldn't bear to watch her attack Basket. So he avoided it, for an entire year.

When he learnt he had never even been needed, he was happy.

He was... _proud_ of Basket, strangely, for defending herself. For staying strong and on her feet. For persisting against an idiot human who never wanted to learn a lesson...

Well, _that_ certainly changed.

And with it, came the fork in the road that changed Olceal's life, forever.

* * *

 In seventh grade, Corala lost her patience, at last – and began to beat Basket senseless, on a cold day – one of the coldest in that year's March.

Basket had been caught so off-guard that she went down – _hard_ – and...

...didn't get up.

Olceal had been nearby, like always. He liked to be close, because it felt less lonely, and he could scare away any jerks from Basket if close enough.

He didn't _always_ manage to, and this was one of those cases.

Somehow, that _damned_ human girl had slipped behind his vision, and, when Basket went to meet her, under the ruse of a truce, Corala threw her down – and slammed her boot onto Basket's stomach, with a sick grin on her face.

At first, Olceal floundered, on his feet the second he understood Corala's intent, and he darted between going to help Basket, and going to get Undyne, who was – thankfully – the one on recess duty, that day.

But then, Basket made a sound: she cried out with pain, trying to curl in on herself to protect her stomach, and his heart suddenly _cracked_.

He lunged forward – and intervened.

_Finally._

_At last: courage!_

_Finally!_

For years, he'd waited for the courage to. Now, he still was a coward, but he was one who was...

…who was...

When Basket's eyes met his, from her place in the mud, they looked scared, clearly expecting more abuse from him, despite the fact that he'd chased Corala away.

 _That_ was what he truly hated, now: the fact that his presence still evoked fear in Basket.

He hated that.

It _hurt_.

It hurt so _badly_...

So they talked. He told her the truth, and somehow, he could tell that she did, too. Something in her eyes softened by the end, and her face had relaxed a little, before she ran away as fast as she could.

He watched her, his heart racing.

She'd responded to him. She'd lost some of that fear.

She'd thanked him, and knew he'd meant well.

And she didn't hate him, either.

Olceal dropped down, then, getting his own knees muddy, but he couldn't care less.

Because now he knew what that feeling truly was, and was now mature enough to recognise it, and name it for what it was:

 _Love_.

So, the moment he got home that day, he went right to his computer, looked up Basket's social media pages, and added her as a friend.

Even when she didn't add him back at first, he immediately began to defend her against those who would torment her – especially Corala.

And by the end of the year, they were friends.

They were actually _friends_.

When he realised that in truth, realised it when he saw the little notification that “ _PeridotBass has accepted your friend request!_ ”, he started to cry.

It was the kind that spoke of years of smothering it, of holding it back, of having to do both in order to survive day-by-day...

Of relief.

Of joy.

Of _hope_.

And of simply knowing that, finally, Olceal was no longer alone – and now, with him, neither was Basket.

Nothing was better than _that_. Nothing at all.

Save one thing, and it was the one thing he learnt very early that he would never get: her love.

* * *

 As she began to trust him more and more, Basket let slip her hopes and dreams, and one of those was to show Nicky, whom Olceal remembered with shame, that Basket loved her, and could teach her how to love Basket, too.

Olceal was sceptical, especially when he remembered the kind of ring Nickname had started to wear upon her right hand, when she turned sixteen: Nicky was asexual, and – he learnt later – aromatic.

Basket foolishly yearned to make Nickname love her.

And it was agony for Olceal, because he wanted to make Basket love him.

* * *

 He didn’t realise it at the time, but the reaction he had when he saw Corala beating Basket down, into unconsciousness – run to Undyne – was _exactly_ the kind of reaction that had endeared him to Basket, for life. 

It was just that, being teenagers, neither even realised it, or if they did, they were to shy to admit it.

Until Basket turned sixteen.

Then, _everything_ changed.

* * *

 He'd decided, that weekend, that while he knew his best friend was at a family party and about to confess her love to someone else, he would plan to do the same, regardless of whether or not she rejected him.

_She wants to wait for Nicky?_

_Fine._

_I'll wait for Bass, while she waits, too._

He had no problem with that.

He was starting to understand what his dad had said to him, once, shortly before he died.

* * *

Olceal was seven, and his father, Lloyd, was one of those old-fashioned types: Olceal was a boy, so, _dammit_ , he would learn stereotypical boyish things. It went to a point that, even at seven, Olceal wondered if he would've been raised as a boy, regardless.

When, decades later, Tally did, indeed, confirm this, he was in no way surprised. She told him that they'd agreed to raise their child as a boy, regardless of what genitalia they were born with.

It made Olceal feel weird and confused knowing it, but he was glad that he hadn't just been a cynic little brat, back then, too.

On the very last fishing trip  (boys' things meant _some_ form of 'manly sport' to his dad, after all), after a long, quiet moment, one that had Olceal feeling so happy that he knew he'd never forget it, his dad spoke.

“Lee,” Lloyd said to him, his voice very soft and small, as they both knew that to make a sound, they would scare their “prey” (just guppies, Olceal found out, later, that Lloyd always released if they survived the hook; otherwise, he just ate it). “I need to tell you somethin'.”

Olceal looked up, his eyes wide but his voice silent. Somehow, like all children innately know, he knew he had to listen.

“When it happens, or--no, wait,” Lloyd started, then paused, thinking for a moment.

That’s how he always was: a slow kind of thinker. It helped Olceal learn patience from the start.

“ _If_ you find yourself feeling romantic feelings, Lee,” Lloyd eventually picked up again, having made the corrections he'd wanted. “I need you to remember somethin'. It's probably the most important thing about love.”

Olceal stared at him, his fishing forgotten. While he was seven, he wasn't an idiot, and knew what love was from watching his own parents: an equal, joyful, challenging but altogether wondrous thing.

“First, _always_ listen to the other person,” Lloyd said, almost sharply. “Always listen to what they say. When they say no, _it's no, Lee._ That's the _end_ of it.”

When Olceal nodded – that was easy enough – Lloyd smiled and went on.

“The surface is weird,” Lloyd murmured, his eyes fixed on some far-off point that Olceal surmised were just trees. “You don't remember a time below, Lee. Therefore, it's easy to be reckless, to forget how easy it is to lose things in seconds.”

Olceal had felt nothing when his father had said those words, not in the moment. But later, when he had trouble sleeping that night, he remembered them, and hated them, without knowing why.

He nodded again, now, however.

Lloyd smiled. “You're such a bright boy,” he observed, and Olceal blushed shyly, pleased. “I want you to keep hold of that brightness, to remember that it came from love. And to hold onto that love – _should_ you feel it romantically, I mean – when you find it in another.”

“Another? Like you and Mummy?” Olceal whispered.

Lloyd smiled wider, nodding. “Yes,” he agreed. “The way I love your mom, is the way I want you to love the one who steals your heart. But, Olceal.”

Olceal sat up, instantly sombre. His father rarely ever used his full name, so he knew this was extra-serious.

“Only pursue if you know it is welcome,” Lloyd said sternly, his eyes right on his son's and remaining there, barely blinking. “If you know your love is not returned, you _must_ move on, Lee. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to that person.”

Olceal had agreed, finding that it made perfect sense.

Why would he ever chase someone who didn't want his attention?

It seemed silly, even for a seven-year-old.

But then, his father added something that Olceal focused on in his adulthood:

“But if you know they want you, Lee... If you can see it, and you will recognise it and know it... If they are holding back, for reasons easily fixed...”

Lloyd suddenly lit up, looking twenty years younger, and he grinned. “Then _never let them go, Lee_. And keep reminding them why you both – and it _must_ be _both_ of you, Olceal – love each other.”

Olceal had agreed to that, too, also cheering up when his dad did – and laughing when Lloyd laughed and ruffled his hair into spikes.

* * *

 _Never let them go, Lee,_ he heard in his heard, over and over, while he waited for the ring he'd just bought to be finished with its engraving.

It was reckless and stupid. Even the clerk had asked him to double-check, with a raise eyebrow.

He was putting his heart on the line, for Basket to slam her heel into and crush...

But he didn't want to let her go.

Even if _she_ couldn't fully let go of _Nicky_.

He could see it.

He knew it.

He knew she felt something for him, and was afraid of it.

At least, he _thought_ he knew it…

So he paid for the ring, wrapped it up, and spent the rest of the weekend trying to word it perfectly, trying to find the best words, the only words good enough for someone like Basket...

_You're stupidly brave._

_No, don't call her stupid! She's_ immensely _brave, be nice!_

_You're immensely brave, to put up with years of abuse, abuse that I started, because I was..._

He paused. He jolted, sitting up in his bed, where he'd been sitting cross-legged, the present in front of him.

… _jealous of you._

 _Your parents love you like nothing I’ve ever seen, and you have_ two _..._

_Two that faced grief, betrayal, near-death... and survived..._

_And I’m jealous of that, because without my mother’s other half, my mother shattered, and it took years to glue her back together..._

_I never want to do that to you._

_I never want to leave you, to abandon you, however unintentional..._

_I want to..._

_…protect you, from others that are like me._

_Because..._

_…I love you, Bass..._

“Dammit...” Olceal growled, flopping forward and just lying there, his hands clutching the box, tightly against his chest.

* * *

He said none of it.

At least, not at _that_ moment.

Instead, he stammered, few ashamed, and _kissed her._

And immediately, he felt like an asshole, and he jerked away, because she'd just admitted she'd been rejected, still shed tears from the pain of that rejection...

Olceal immediately waited for a taste of that rejection, but... instead, got to taste her lips, again.

And in that, he learnt something; not just about Basket, but about himself, too.

It was possible to love more than one person, and love them with just as much heart and soul as they did anyone else they loved.

Basket was like that; he saw it the moment her eyes went wide, and he pulled away from her – and she snapped at him to shut up, because she _did_ , but...

She knew she was not someone to be dated without repercussions.

Olceal, in that second, didn't care, anymore. He didn't care about what anyone said. He didn't care about what anyone did.

He loved Basket, and could tell that she liked him, too – and that was all he cared about.

So when he kissed her, again, to prove her wrong, he felt his heart open.

Because he knew he would be happy to spend the rest of his life proving her wrong in this regard.

That he loved her, no matter what.

That he was sorry for hurting her, and was desperate to protect her to make up for it.

That he knew he would have to share her heart with Nicky, and he was fine with it, as long as he could still have a place there, too.

Basket agreed, gratefully and emotionally.

And from then on, he never let her go.

And best of all: _she_ never let _him_ go.

Not even when they had to make room for Nicky, too.

His arms were big enough.

He'd found his loves.

And he'd never let them go.


	6. The Perfect Storm (Knight) (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep: the night. Two people requested this, and one of those people kept requesting it - and encouraging me to write it. I was hesitant to, because it's very long, very - uh - sexy, and very emotional. 
> 
> But she kept encouraging me, and I realised: if this collection is for anyone, it's for her, perhaps most of all. 
> 
> So, I thank you, dear Trash_Nicky. For encouraging me. For reading my words. For... for loving these characters, almost as much as I do.
> 
> This is most certainly for you, not just because it's lewff, but because, above all, it's the three of them, at their purest selves, and I think you, above all, will be able to appreciate that. 
> 
> Thank you. For being you. And for cheering me on, when no one else could. <3

Basket was hurting, it was true. She was still raw and burnt out from all that happened, and the loss of sleep only made it worse.

But what she didn't truly realise until that day was how hurt Olceal and Nickname were, too, and how important it was to remember that.

They'd seen her go down, black out, watched her hair bleach itself white and have to see her trapped in a hospital bed. They had to even leave her behind, leave her alone in that bed, and while it had hurt her, she hadn't know it had hurt them, too.

Until Nicky cornered her in the bathroom of that hospital room, both trying to nurse her as well as scold and shame her, so she'd never repeat those actions that had hurt them all in the first place.

She'd been telling them the truth when she said that she hadn't known how badly her actions had hurt them, too – especially when all she'd wanted from the start was to keep them from harm in the first place.

So when Nicky picked her up and smiled at her, that regret eased, just a little – just like Nicky knew it would, and why she did it at all.

Nicky loved Basket, more than anyone else in the world, perhaps even more than her parents. She always felt guilty admitting it to herself, especially whenever Olceal was near her when she did, but it wasn't due to her loving Olceal any less. She _did_ love Olceal, more than she even thought she _could,_ and was always surprised by how much love she felt with him, especially now.

He was, after all, the only person in the world, right now, who understood exactly how she felt, and yet insisted on comforting her despite it. He was the only other person who could ever truly remain within her heart the way Basket was, and the fact that they also loved each other, well...

Her heart was full, and _almost_ complete.

And Basket held most of it within her hands, without either knowing it, or without even realising she ever could.

Hell, she'd held it while Nicky didn't even realise it...

To lose her, to _almost_ lose her, to have to face a world without her...

Even with Olceal at her side, without Basket...

She knew: it would destroy her.

It would kill her, or make her yearn to be killed.

Olceal felt exactly the same way, his heart full of those complex emotions as he followed his wives to their bedroom, his hand on Nicky's shoulder – and Basket's hand soon grabbed it and held it between her own, which only reminded him of those feelings.

And suddenly, he realised that he needed Basket to know, to _truly_ know, how _he_ truly felt about her.

And the only way he knew how to do that for sure, and to ensure she believed him without a doubt, was to...

 _But, no, wait,_ he thought quickly, already following Basket and Nicky onto their bed, where Nicky laid Bass down, first, then moved to join her.

_To do that, either Nicks or Bass could end up, well..._

_And we don't want that..._

_We never have..._

His eyes went to Nicky's, then Basket's, as they looked at each other.

_Right...?_

_But that was before we married Nicky_ , he realised.

He was moving closer to Basket's other side, his face going right into her shoulder, so that he could take in her scent and know she was real...

Her arm slipped around his shoulders, and he burrowed closer, one hand sliding up along her front, and resting between her breasts.

Over her heart.

His true home.

Suddenly, Nicky's hand covered his, and Basket then covered hers.

And once more, they all shared a soft laugh, their thoughts suddenly shifting and changing to this moment, instead of anything else.

“I... Olly... Nicky...” Basket whispered, closing her eyes and lowering her head, wanting to hide it but finding nowhere she could. “I w-want... _b-both_ of you... pl-please...?”

Nicky laughed gently, kissing her cheek. “My love, Olly and I had planned to jump you from the start, and together. I do not see an issue, here.”

Basket blushed, her eyes opening again. She smiled a little when she saw Nicky's expression: sincere, but with gentle humour.

There was a small light, there, too, one Basket recognised, but not well enough to name, yet.

When she looked at Olceal, however, she paused, blinking hard.

Olceal, despite the small smile on his face, wore an expression of deeply conflicted desperation, as though shy about the depths of his desires. Like he wanted to ask, but felt he couldn't, and being unable to was misery.

“Olly?” she murmured, reaching up and touching his cheek. “Honey, are you okay? You look... _so sad_...”

“Bassy, I…” Olceal swallowed hard, looking over at Nicky for help, before he realised that even she didn't understand; she looked just as confused as Basket, and just as worried. “I… I need... I n-need...”

Basket nodded, rubbing his cheek in encouragement, and he felt Nicky squeeze his hand, the one he still held over Basket's heart, one he felt beating hard and fast...

But still beating, still thrumming, still keeping his dearest wife alive...

He tried again, tried to word it, tried to explain it: he wanted her to see his soul, and know that he truly did love her, and how it felt to love her, too.

_And, why I need you, Bassy... so much..._

All he got out was, “Please... our... _our s-souls..._ I n-need...”

Then, he choked up, and lowered his head, starting to cry, but as quietly as he could. He didn't want to hurt Basket, or manipulate her, but he also desperately needed her to _see..._

Beside Basket, Nicky jolted, sitting up right away. She jerked her hands back, placing them on her knees, and her eyes went wide and bright. But strangely, instead of saying what she clearly wanted to say, she flinched, her jaw set and her lips pressed closed.

Basket noticed, but truthfully, her eyes were still on Olceal, wide and shocked. Her fingers moved to brush his tears away, while her other hand simply followed Nicky's and held it, again.

When Nicky held hers in return, Basket then asked, “What _about_ our souls...?”

Nicky lowered her head, but she relaxed, swallowing hard. It took everything she had to keep herself quiet, to show that she had no opinion either way...

_You could be wrong, this probably isn't it, don't say a word...!_

But then, Olceal moved closer, his head lowered and his eyes still overflowing. He first slid between Basket's legs, gently easing her knees apart to do so, and she welcomed him with a warm, shy smile, her heart's beats increasing with what he knew was growing arousal.

Then, he sat up again, and took hold of Basket's free hand, threading their fingers together. She blinked, her eyes going to Nicky, hoping she knew what was wrong, but Nicky was scarlet, her head lowered and her long hair covering her face, as if she knew, but was too shy to explain.

Basket opened her mouth, wondering if she was missing something and about to ask, but then Olceal reached over and picked up one of Nicky's hands, doing the same and pulling it, with Basket's, to his chest.

Nicky blinked, her heart like a panicked rodent in a prodded cage, but she didn't dare look up.

She didn't want to let herself hope...

Suddenly, both she and Nicky jolted. Basket sat up quickly, her eyes going right to Olceal's.

In reply, he shifted closer – and closed his eyes, sniffling.

Olceal was reaching out with his magic, and reaching out with his own soul.

Nicky and Basket looked at each other, just as they felt something new at the same time: a flood of soothing, gentle warmth, a tingling that spread from their palms and up their arms, before mingling with their blood and sending it all over – and strengthening it into bliss.

Basket laid back, dropping heavily when she felt it, her voice catching in her throat when she tried to speak. She couldn't help it: the feel of Olceal using magic from his soul was like being wrapped in a blanket made of all of her personal comforts, and it felt so good...

Nicky was trembling, her eyes closing when Basket fell back, feeling the same as she at that same moment. She breathed shakily, her other hand clenched upon her knee, but she said nothing.

Then, suddenly, to her own shock as well as her spouses', Basket swallowed hard – and reached out, using not just her magic, but also her soul.

Olceal jolted, and the second he felt it hit him, his eyes flared and went to hers, speechless but starting to feel a smile come to life.

 _“Yes,”_ she whispered, her legs gripping around his waist tighter.

Their eyes met, and she nodded, meaning it – and also not only admitting that she _knew_ the risks, but _accepted_ them.

Olceal sobbed, beaming with joy and excitement, and she bit her lip, her own eyes filling with tears.

But before their magic could truly meet, they both felt Nicky start to pull her hand away from Olceal's, surprising them. Nicky kept her face hidden, clearly just as emotional and feeling just as much, but also clearly feeling as though she did not belong with them at this moment.

Which wasn't true, but it was the impression Nicky wanted them to have, because she knew that if she was not wanted, but forced this to happen, anyway, she would hate herself, forever – and would expect them to hate her, too.

Nicky knew it had to be all three of them. She'd seen that. So she knew that she _was_ needed.

But that didn't mean Nicky was needed – or even wanted – at _this_ moment. Olceal had surprised both of his wives as well as himself, and now that Basket had joined in that, Nicky was starting to get scared.

But then, Basket suddenly held up her other hand, before gently reaching out, and poking Nicky's with the tip of her finger.

When Nicky looked at her, Basket's eyes were already on her, her face red but alight with want.

And _need._

“Please,” Olceal then begged her, trying to keep hold of her hand, to renew his grip upon it.

He wanted Nicky, too, in this same way, but for different reasons. He knew, and had always known, Nicky's deepest fear: that she had ruined a marriage, and had made Olceal accept a situation he'd never asked for, and probably had never even wanted...

When her eyes finally met his, he was saddened to see that, even now, she still felt that way. It made him even more desperate to include her in this, to prove to her what he actually felt for her, for real...

Nicky bit her lip, seeing nothing but sincerity and eagerness in both of their faces, and with a deep breath, she raised her hand, and meshed her fingers with Basket's, closing their circle.

Then, she closed her eyes, and reached out with her soul, too, just as she felt Olceal and Basket reach out to her, and each other.

Before any of them could say a word, their souls touched - all three - and mingled, so neatly and easily that it was almost hilarious; even with this, the three of them seemed as if they'd always belonged together, as the triad they now were.

In that bright moment, their minds seemed to almost sink inward, so that they met alongside their souls, and when that happened, all three gasped–

\--and time stopped.

They became each other, themselves, their true selves, all at once.

_Oh! Oh! Holy shit, holy shit!_

It was Basket, a kind of spiritual version of her voice – her soul's voice – and with it came cascades of emerald light, patterns that tangled and grew alongside Basket's emotions.

Basket  _had_ to cry out, startled and disoriented, but also thrilled and eager.

There were things she'd never been able to word properly, things she wished she knew how, but never could.

Now, hopefully, she didn't need to.

_Pretty..._

That was Nicky's voice, her soul glittering like a gentle creek of reds. When those ripples stretched out tentatively and curled around those bursts of green, they shimmered, then bled into each other.

And before either of them could even try to get used to that, there was suddenly bright branches of pink, varying from blinding magenta to soft rose.

Immediately, the other two colours brought those branches closer, and thus, the first thing Olceal ended up saying reflected that.

_Gah!_

There was soft laughter from his wives, a kind he felt instead of heard, and instead of making him shy, it made him feel... _welcome._

And just as happy.

 _Okay,_ Basket suddenly said, above all else and before anything else could happen. _Both of you, I… I need you to... just..._

She grew frustrated, trying to open that part of her soul to bare it, to bare her true feelings, and when they felt it, both Olceal and Nicky even tried to help, but they failed, too.

 _Oh, wait,_ Olceal then thought, _Duh._

Nicky was suspiciously quiet during this, and had to be. She was struggling to keep her own walls up, around that vision, while also trying to keep them as close as possible.

Luckily, the same thing that blocked Basket was blocking Nicky, too – until she realised what Olceal meant by “Duh.”

Basket laughed, and this time, it was both mental and physical.

 _How are we going to do this with our hands connected?_ she wondered.

Basket, of course, meant undressing – which was what sent Nicky into such loud silence in the first place.

 _We gotta break it up,_ Olceal then realised, sounding offended by it. _We should've started naked. Shit._

 _Okay,_ Nicky then murmured, her voice soft and her soul gentle. _We can do this. Nice and slow, okay? Unless, uh...._

She hesitated, then just said it: _Unless it's going too far._

 _Does it feel that way for you, Nicky?_ Basket asked her, with a voice full of understanding and patience. _It's okay; we can either stop, or wait for a day that you're up to it..._

 _…but,_ Olceal added, his growing excitement affecting them all.

 _But..._ Basket agreed shyly, _I... I want to..._

Nicky was quiet, again, until she sensed them worrying about her.

Then, she added, _Okay, well... We do have to break it, I think..._

 _Slow?_ Basket hoped.

 _Slow,_ both Olceal and Nicky agreed.

It wasn't easy; all three of them were hesitant, as the connection they felt was one of immense comfort and love. But when Basket reminded herself – and, in turn, Nicky and Olceal – that it would be even better once they reconnected, it became easier.

At the same time, all three jolted and let go of each other's hands, without control, and gasped.

Olceal accidentally stumbled and landed right atop Basket, who coughed – then laughed weakly – before pulling him closer.

Beside them, Nicky uncurled her body slowly, then leaned down and kissed Basket's lips, right before Olceal could. She knew, and she reached out and touched Olceal's cheek, before pulling away from Basket – and turning to kiss him, in the same way.

It stunned them both.

When Nicky pulled away from Olceal, he shared the same surprised look as Basket did, and Nicky blushed deeply, her hands going the front of her own clothes, her fingers tangling into the buttons of her shirt a little.

“I... I love you,” Nicky whispered, her eyes going between them. “I love you _both,_ so... so m-much... and... and I…”

Basket sat up slowly, and Olceal did, too, moving from between Basket's legs and kneeling at her other side. They both touched Nicky's cheeks, and she laughed, reaching up and holding both hands in place, her eyes closing, just as they filled with tears.

They knew: she wanted to show it, to prove it to them.

And there was only one way how.

Suddenly, Basket looked determined, her eyes sparking. “Okay, here's my idea,” she said excitedly. “Olly and I do it, first – but while Nicky holds our hands, too. And-and then Nicky and Olly, while I hold your hands!”

Nicky looked up, then, her expression still very shy. “Bassy...? Then... then you... and me...?”

Basket's expression softened, and she nodded, swallowing hard. “While Olly holds our hands,” she agreed, and Nicky nodded, too, wanting that very much.

She wanted this to work.

She wanted this to be real.

She wanted... she wanted...

 _I want that little girl upon her lap, smiling Basket's smile while Olceal's ears twitched atop her head, and while my own eyes looked up into their mirror, my father's eyes,_ Toriel's _eyes..._

She wanted all three of them to make a child.

Not just her and Bass, not just Olly and Bass, not just her and Olly.

But all three.

Olceal was in tears, and he didn't even realise it until he tried to speak, and his voice broke. “Yes,” he agreed weakly. The idea, while sounding a bit exhausting, true, was one he wanted, and very much.

There was one thing he wanted to know from Nickname, and while it wasn't the main reason why he wanted this, it was a good one.

“Wait,” Olceal murmured, then. “I... I think it should start... Well...” He smiled, and both Nicky and Basket swallowed hard, the smile striking their hearts. “Like we started, from that first night...”

Basket suddenly leapt atop him and kissed him, surprising him into toppling backward – and sending them both off of their bed, immediately a heap of squeaky kisses and tears.

Nicky laughed, too, their passion delighting her, as always, and shakily, she leaned over and grabbed Basket, pulling her back up, before doing the same for Olceal.

Both stared at her, surprised, and she blushed. “I... I’m strong, okay?” she admitted shyly, unsure of now was the time to tell them about what she was...

But before she could, Basket slipped close to her and suddenly continued unbuttoning the front of her shirt, her eyes bright and her face red. Nicky laughed again, but softer, this time, and she helped, tossing it over her head and to the floor when she could.

Basket again moved closer to her, but instead found herself suddenly flanked – and both Olceal and Nicky went for her clothes, taking turns undressing her as she squirmed and laughed. Every time she tried to do the same, they simply pinned her again, and by the end, she was laughing so hard that she cried.

She knew she could trust them. She knew that neither of them would ever place their hands on her that way, unless from love, and was not afraid of them.

But her eyes went to Olceal the second she was naked, and he swallowed hard, his eyes moving over her body slowly.

She knew that if she and Nicky tried the same thing to him, he would panic.

It had happened once, before, and when it did, he'd panicked so badly that he not only fought them both, but ran out of the room, cowering under the kitchen table and shuddering.

Basket had always known why, as Olceal had told her when they were younger, and she'd accidentally frightened him while making out with him. He'd confessed the whole story, in tears and shaking with humiliation.

When he finished, she'd wrapped him up into a blanket and held him tight, unable to keep herself from breaking down, too, furious and heartbroken that someone had hurt him so _personally,_ so _cruelly..._

Nicky didn't know the extent of the details, as when he'd run, it was still early in their relationship with her, and he didn't want her to see him differently.

Nicky had been so sorry, so traumatised by the fact that her actions – during sex, even, something she already was struggling to get used to – had caused him pain, and had never asked him to explain.

So he did not.

Basket now realised that Nicky would find out, today – and she hoped Olceal was ready for that.

But then, she felt Nicky kiss one of her breasts, and Olceal slide his hand up her side, and she shivered, lying back again and surrendering quite happily. She reached up clumsily and tugged on Olceal's sleeve, but Nicky was the one who leaned over and threw it off of him, making him grin at her and blush.

Nicky did, too, her heart racing and her soul eager for them, more eager than her body was – and her body was definitely eager.

Olceal leaned back over to her and kissed her lips, one hand reached out and moving to her back. As he undid her bra, Nicky undid his pants, and not once did their kiss pause, not even when they both had to shimmy in some way out of those needless clothes.

Basket helped; she not only managed to get Olceal naked, but Nicky, too, taking their distracted kissing as an excuse to do so.

Therefore, by the time Nicky broke away from Olceal, all three were breathless, red, and completely naked (well, save certain pieces of jewellery, of course).

Basket swallowed hard, about to sit up, but Nicky suddenly slid atop her, surprising her; Nicky usually preferred to bottom, even with Olceal, as she felt the most comfort and pleasure that way, and didn't like the idea of being in control. She always trusted them, and truly, they were the only two people in the world who could ever give her sexual pleasure (other than herself, of course).

But this time, something came over her, and she _had_ to top.

Maybe it was the situation, the possible circumstances.

_Maybe._

But Nickname wasn't so sure.

In fact, thinking back to how she'd behaved in the hospital, it was probably, above all, the fact that she'd had to face a nightmare, and it had terrified her.

She wanted to be the one in control, this time, because she already had lost so much of it, had lost almost all of it, when that gun fired.

She wanted to prove to Basket, once and for all, that what she felt was real and true, and not just pity for Basket, like Nicky knew she truly feared.

Basket's eyes met hers, and she nodded, adjusting to tangle their legs together.

Basket swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry, and she moved her legs, too, until they were entwined perfectly.

Then, Nicky took one of Basket's hands, and meshed their fingers together. Basket closed her eyes briefly, then reached out for Olceal, who grabbed her hand right away, moving to lie down beside them.

When he was comfortable, he grabbed Nicky's other hand, and nodded.

Nicky closed her eyes and reached out, and she felt them do the same, seconds apart.

And when _that_ happened, Nicky lowered herself down against Basket, pressing as close as possible.

She heard Basket cry out softly, before they both were suddenly not there, but nowhere else, too.

Basket said, the second she realised it, _Nicks, Nicks, please!_

Nickname was startled, as she'd just barely focused on Basket's soul before she heard her say that, using that very soul.

Quietly, alongside the both, they felt Olceal. It was strange, though; he was definitely connected to them both, but when Nicky started to move against Basket – and Basket do the same in concert with her – he felt a thin wall, one that contained the deepest parts of his wives' souls. So while he could feel their emotions, sense their thoughts and feelings, he could not see what Nicky was seeing - yet.

Nicky was speechless, the moment she understood what she was being shown.

Basket had practically grabbed her and dragged her down, making sure she touched the deepest part of her soul, and Nicky was stunned by it.

She saw... _herself._ But as Basket saw her.

It was self she'd never known, one that sent her reeling – and in turn worrying Olceal, just a little.

But Basket didn't let her go – not until she truly understood.

Denial was the first thing Nicky felt, embarrassingly. Because there was no way in the world that anyone could ever feel for her the way she was being shown.

But the soul never lied. It was impossible for it to.

Therefore, she knew that what Basket was showing her was, indeed, the truth.

And it was that, for as long as Basket could remember, she'd loved Nickname – and unconditionally.

When they were children, Basket had looked up to her as a cherished playmate. As they grew older, she was a sister, the kind of person Basket wanted to be.

But it didn't take long for those feelings to change, and slowly crystallise into deep, romantic love, a love Basket never lost, even when Nicky rejected her.

Nicky still felt shame over that, but Basket was quick to ease that; she'd never blamed Nicky for that rejection, as she'd tried to ask someone she knew could not to love her, and that wasn't fair.

And when Nicky saw what Basket felt now, she started to cry – and kiss Basket's lips, slowly and sweetly, the same way they made love.

To Basket, who saw herself as the smallest star in the entire galaxy, Nicky was the sun. Olceal was her moon, but Nicky was and always had been her sun.

To her, a world without Nickname was a world without sunlight, and thus intolerable to her. It was the true reason why Basket had shielded her, and hadn't cared if it had killed her; the world needed that sunlight more than it needed Basket's minute starlight.

Nicky truly was her Queen.

Olceal felt all of these emotions, despite not being able to intimately experience them. He knew, just as well as they did, that, while not uncommon, the way the three of them were going about this was unique.

Their goal wasn't specifically to make a child, but to touch – then merge – their souls, which held the risk of making a child, despite the different means.

But that was the key: it was _different,_ because there were three of them, and while they only knew as much as school and personal research taught them, they could all easily agree that having a third person there changed the entire ordeal.

It was why Olceal felt, above all, pleasure, rather than experience the emotions his wives were sharing. He moved closer, keeping his eyes closed, and nuzzled Basket's shoulder gently. She squeezed his hand, and he smiled; she not only felt him, but knew it was him in the first place, and that was wonderful for him.

Unable to resist, he rubbed up against her a little, the friction of her hip against his cock sweet and teasing, a promise of what was to – pun intended – come. (She felt it and swallowed a laugh, squeezing his hand again.)

At that moment, Nicky concentrated, and practically yanked Basket as close to herself as possible, both with her body and her soul. She heard Basket moan softly, felt her meet every move – and then she suddenly went quiet, almost eerily so, as Basket was not a quiet lover.

She had no choice but to be silent, though. The moment she understood was she was feeling and seeing, she found she forgot how to speak at all.

At first, Basket could only see Nicky as she'd lived before they'd stumbled together: a quiet, almost serene life, one dedicated to her job and happily so, wanting for nothing and feeling no real loss when it came to personal reflection.

But it was then that Nicky noticed something about herself, just as Basket saw it, first: that wasn't exactly true.

Or, perhaps it would be more fair to Nicky to state that she didn't know it wasn't true, not really; the times she'd wondered, paused and reflected, held moments of near-clarity, were almost frustrating in how close she came to opening her heart, and yet how she never did.

But, seeing with keen retrospective, there were moments before Asgore died that she really had doubted herself.

And now, Nicky could not only could see them, but she could see when, and why.

There was no coincidences, not with the soul, and clearly, Nickname's soul knew herself better than her mind, because each time she'd reflected was always right after a time she had spent with Basket, or Basket and Olceal, together.

Grief had opened that door.

 _But Basket had unlocked it,_ and thrown away the key.

And long before Nicky even bothered to _try_ to open it, herself.

 _No,_ I _didn't..._ Basket whispered in disbelief, still silent with shock.

Now she was the one in denial, despite damn well knowing that the soul hid nothing.

_Did I…?_

But it was true, and now that she'd found that door, Nicky kept it open, and pulled Basket through, too.

 _Yes,_ she whispered to Basket, sliding her lips down her jawline and brushing them over one of Basket's ears, making her shiver, their bodies still moving as their souls were moved.

Basket then made a sound: she started to cry, disbelief and joy warring within her and making her unable to emote in any other way.

And truly, if this had just been sex, Nicky would've immediately stopped, here.

But she knew exactly why Basket cried, and instead of pulling away, she moved closer, her mouth returning to Basket's, just as Basket sobbed out her name.

They both felt it – as did Olceal, though not as keenly, it was true: they were both growing close, and the way they were connected, now, meant that they could easily time it so they came together.

It made Basket laugh weakly, and Nicky smile. They both felt Olceal squeeze their hands, and they squeezed back, Basket reaching out and curving her tail around one of his thighs – and making him smile, now, too.

 _Bassy... I'm sorry I was so slow to understand..._ Nicky admitted.

 _No!_ Basket cried, more felt than heard, as still, their souls remained mingled together. _No, Nicks, please, I… I like the way this worked out... I… The wait was worth it to me..._

Nicky shivered, this time. She'd known that, of course, as Basket's thoughts and feelings were naked to her, and as bright as a summer sun.

But to hear Basket say it – well, sort of – was something else.

Real. Definite. Undeniable.

 _Me too,_ Nicky decided, the one unable to hold back a moan, this time.

She felt Olceal shift closer, and she smiled; both she and Basket felt a shared comfort at that. (Basket even slipped her tail up and nudged his erection a little, making him gasp and press closer.)

However, comfort soon changed into urgency, to the point that Basket and Nicky almost forgot about Olceal, mostly.

Especially when they both were moments from climax, one they would share.

 _Oh..._ Basket whispered _, I want to feel this with both of you... and you two,_ together...

Nicky shivered again, her face going into Basket's other shoulder, gritting her teeth. Basket was one of the most selfish people that anyone could ever meet – save when it came to Nicky or Olceal.

That much was clear whenever any of them saw Basket's hair, now.

But all of that could be forgotten and set aside, as this moment was far more important.

Basket's hold broke, first, and she reeled, arching beneath Nicky and clutching at her hand – and Olceal's – so hard that it hurt them both, her tail curling into a tight spiral.

Nicky, however, didn't feel it, as it was then that she, too, was overcome, and she became completely unable to focus on anything else.

The pleasure was _intense,_ one that they felt with their souls as well as their bodies, and it sent them both into a shared trance, one held up by Olceal but consisting only of the two of them.

When Nicky sobbed softly and relaxed against Basket, however, she didn't call back her magic – and neither did Basket, despite feeling so overtaken that she was close to just passing out.

But she didn't; instead, she relaxed her grip on her spouses' hands, and took a moment to collect herself – as well as slowly ease back from Nicky.

Nicky felt that retreat, and stopped her quickly, wanting to make sure Basket knew how she felt for sure...

Basket moved her head up and nuzzled Nicky's cheek, and they both opened their eyes at last, meeting each other's gaze and just staring at each other, thousands of words flying between them silently.

Basket then nodded, blinking her tears back hard, and Nicky bit her lip and buried her face between Basket's breasts for a moment, so completely relieved that she had no words.

But Basket did: “I didn't know,” she rasped out weakly.

“Neither did I, Bassy,” Nicky admitted sheepishly, blushing a little.

Basket surprised all three of them, and laughed softly. She couldn't help it: she was delighted.

To know that, in fact, Basket really _hadn't_ been imagining the rare looks of confused contemplation upon Nicky's face, to know that it really _was_ about Basket, herself, and enough to give her hope, still...

She laughed again, ready to start denying it, but knowing she could not. She simply could not. And it was the happiest moment of her life, so far.

Then, suddenly, they both heard Olceal gasp out, “Please... _please,_ Nicky... I need her to see, too...”

Both she and Basket looked over at him, surprised, and found him sitting up on his knees, tugging at Basket's hand and trying to nudge Nicky away, so he could take her place. She grinned, kissing his lips for a moment, and he gratefully returned it, feeling so much love for her, so happy she understood...

Well, _almost_ understood. She would understand him, completely, soon.

_But first..._

_My Bassy..._

Nicky pulled away and gently slid off of Basket, moving to her other side, and Basket smiled at her, bringing her hand up and kissing it, gently, and making Nicky smile.

When she was settled comfortably next to Basket, holding both of her spouses' hands upon her lap, Olceal moved to take her place.

Basket parted her legs immediately, her expression tender and warm, and when her eyes met his, they softened in that special way that he knew was for him, and him alone. She pulled his hand to her chest and held the back of his hand against the skin between her breasts, and he couldn't help it, he sniffled, leaning down to kiss her.

She returned it, then deepened it, her legs slipping around his waist and trapping him, and happily so. He moaned softly, as it brought him closer to her, and she grunted softly in return.

She needed him.

This was _so_ important to her, too.

She needed him to see, too...

Carefully, after a few tries that made all three chuckle, Olceal slipped his cock into Basket, feeling her so slick and hot, and she purred happily.

Then, they reached for each other, and finally touched.

Olceal froze with shock, but Basket simply pulled him closer, and for a moment, he forgot why he was there.

All he could see was how she saw him, how she felt about him, and it was...

It was so much _more_ than he could ever have imagined it to be.

From the start, he'd known that Basket loved Nicky. Always. He'd watched it happen, after all.

But what he'd missed was that her eyes had turned to him, too, and had seen him – perhaps even better than she had seen Nicky at the time.

He could see, like she could see, their shared, angry beginning, and he felt shame.

But Basket murmured, moving her lips from his to the curve of his neck, and suddenly, he saw more – and almost familiar, as though staring into a mirror...

Curiosity: they'd shared that, especially when he left her alone. They'd both watched the other, wanting to see what would happen, next, and secretly hoping that the other would, perhaps, change.

But Basket then saw what she never expected to see, this time, and was shocked by the truth: he'd wanted her for far longer than she'd ever imagined, before she even could accept that he wouldn't betray her.

With that, she finally shared with him what she had been hoping to from the start.

His _true_ worth.

Nicky blinked, her eyes opening slowly. She watched them, her heart racing, and she smiled, squeezing both of their hands – and getting a squeeze back from both. She always loved watching them, and not just because it was arousing.

No, she _loved_ their chemistry, their ease with each other, and how, when combined, they weren't volatile, after all, but the perfect cocktail.

They balanced, and Nicky adored it.

And now, she was finally able to feel that with her soul, and it wrapped around her and soothed her, enveloping her in pleasure and comfort.

Olceal was Basket's moon, it was true. But Basket was also a kind of person who thrived under the night sky, so he now knew just how much he meant to her in that regard.

He was her best friend, the one she trusted with everything, all of it, even things she never told Nicky. There were some things that she could only share with him, and she loved that she could – and loved _him,_ too.  
  
He saw how every little move he made toward her, be it a soft kiss on her nose in gratitude for doing the dishes or a touch of her hand whenever they walked side-by-side.

Every single gesture meant something to her, and meant more coming from him, because of how much he meant to her.

Basket sniffled, feeling shy, now. She wasn’t sure if she was as comfortable as she'd like to be when sharing these thoughts, but at the same time, she knew he was trustworthy.

For Basket, when it came to people, she expected to be rejected, always.

And now he saw that that still extended to himself, even now. She never took anything he did for granted, and never expected him to do most of what he did for her. Every moment he spent with her was precious, because he was the first – and _only_ – person she'd ever been able to forgive for hurting her so horribly. He'd bullied her, from the start, and it had crushed her.

So to trust him wasn't easy.

Except... it _was._

It _was_ easy, because, ever since he'd started helping her, she found herself unable to hold that trust back, though she still did for quite some time. Every time he was kind to her, her perspective changed, and she was stunned and confused – but so grateful and happy, too.

He was _easy_ to love, she discovered.

And while that scared her, she still loved him. He was so easygoing, so sweet and kind, that the other parts – his quick anger, his tendency to overreact, his default offensiveness – were easier to accept and love, too.

With time, he saw, Basket started to question why he was even with her, and he felt dismay fill him. She saw herself as someone too heavy to carry, someone too damaged to love.

That hurt Olceal, so much that he sobbed aloud, and buried his face into her neck, shaking his head. Basket swallowed hard, nodding, but again, he shook his head, and she went quiet, angry that he was disagreeing with her, despite the fact that it was a good thing.

And with that, Olceal realised it was time to show her, at last.

He raised his head, whispered her name against her lips, and kissed her – then pulled her as deeply within his soul as possible.

Basket gasped softly, arching her back a little, the muscles of her cunt clenching around his cock tightly as she moved, and he groaned in reply, the pleasure he felt immense, now.

Because now, Basket could see the truth, at last.

Olceal _worshipped_ Basket.

There was no other word for what he felt, and he didn't want another word. He worshipped her, adored her, and wanted her to have the world.

Beside them, Nicky smiled, her eyes filling with tears.

 _Exactly,_ she thought – then jumped when she felt Olceal squeeze her hand again, his fingers shaking. He'd heard her, and was grateful she understood, too. She agreed that Basket deserved everything she'd ever been denied, and Olceal felt comfort, knowing that she understood, agreed – and was happy about it.

Basket tried to protest, then, overwhelmed by the fact that they were both saying that they wanted her to take over the world, but Olceal silenced her completely, in one moment.

She'd saved his life, more than once, and she'd never, ever known that.

Seeing it, feeling it, made her sob, shocked, so Olceal showed her... _all of it._

He was terrified, but he did.

And he would soon realise it was the best decision he'd ever made thus far.

She saw the abuse she'd only heard about, first hand, and she burst into sobs of grief, her legs tightening around his waist.

Just after his father had died, and while his mother had been devoured by grief, one of his relatives had, during a time when Tally needed someone to take care of him, molested him, several times. It hadn't gone as far as she'd feared, but the cruelty that _had_ been done to him...

It was brutal.

It was horrific.

And he'd only been able to escape it when he, after the last but worst time, confessed to his mother and begged her forgiveness, as he felt he was to blame, being only a child and unable to fight back. He also blamed his father's death on himself, and confessed to her that he knew that this was his punishment...

_But... I couldn't take it, anymore..._

And Tally had not only believed him, but actually ended up kicking the shit out of that relative, threatening to murder them if they so much as saw either her or Olceal again.

Tally had then spent an entire day with him, listening to his woes, and making sure that he knew and understand that _none_ of it – the sexual abuse and his father's death – was his fault, _ever._

_And I tried to believe her, to agree, but..._

_The shame, however, lingered._

_And it was then that I became a bully._

So when Basket tumbled into his life – and to the ground, thanks to his own fist – he was horrified by his actions, unable to see anyone but himself being beat up, and at his own hands.

He had wanted to punish a world in which the sexual abuse of a child was allowed, but instead ended up punishing himself.

He saw pain in Basket's eyes, and while it wasn't the same degree or weight, it was as familiar as his own.

And it shamed him, because he realised that he'd become the kind of bully that relative had been.

Nicky was crying, now, too. She didn't know why, couldn't see it, yet, but the pain that Basket and Olceal shared was immense, and she felt it as her own.

Right before he stepped in and stopped Corala, however, he decided that he wanted to die.

He'd had to watch as the world treated Basket like a pincushion, and had to admit to himself that he had started it.

He had brought Basket into hell with him.

And it had hurt him, so badly, that he wanted to kill himself, terrified that the ugliness he'd suffered under had been passed to him through blood.

But the next day, Basket needed him.

He could see, in his former friend's eyes, that cruel sadism, that happy hatred, and he realised that, if she kept having her way, she would either kill Basket, herself.

Or the worst, his true nightmare: drive Basket to suicide.

(Which he saw, now, _had_ happened a few times, but thankfully, not because of him.)

So, he'd rushed in, stopped it from happening.

And when Basket had met his gaze, he saw that same wary hurt, that resigned acceptance of brutality, he fell at her feet, because he wanted to make it go away – and, in return, hoped she would help him, too.

And she had.

She'd saved his life, when he'd saved hers.

Basket was choking with her grief, now, trying to speak but unable to, desperate to. She kept trying, until she felt Nicky kiss the back of her hand.

“Use your _true_ voice, my love,” Nicky told her, and she nodded, swallowing hard and concentrating.

_Olly... I didn't know... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Ollies!_

Olceal smiled weakly. He'd had to slow down, keep the pace between them calm, so that he had enough time to show her everything.

So he did.

He showed her the second, and final time, she'd saved his life, and she hadn't even known it at the time.

It was near graduation, and Basket was frustrated with her options in Ebott. She'd felt restless, wanting to do more for her family and people, and after she did some research, found out that Australia had suddenly discovered monsters of their own.

She'd told him. She'd explained what she wanted.

And then, she broke up with him.

It had broken her, too. She'd wanted him, still, and even _yearned_ for his company overseas. But she knew that Olceal and his mother needed each other, and she hadn't wanted to come between that.

It'd nearly destroyed him, and he ran from her, hiding at home in his bedroom and feeling his entire world crumble into dust.

He couldn't live without her, he'd realised.

 _So... I decided: I wouldn't live at_ all...

But then, right before he'd stepped off the stool, he heard his phone ringing.

_Basket's ringtone!_

He'd gasped and he tore the rope away from his neck, her name on his lips as he ran to it.

Her voice was tiny, scratchy and weak, but she'd sobbed, “I'm sorry. Olly, I’m so fucking selfish... I-I... _I_ _c-can't... l-live without y-you...”_

 _“Then fucking don't!”_ he'd screamed. “Please, Bassy! All I want is _you!_ I don't _want_ to live without you, either! Please _, Bassy, please!!”_

And suddenly, he'd heard a fist pounding at the front door.

Olceal had run to it, and found her standing there, her phone in her hands and her posture defeated. He'd lunged for her, and she collapsed into his arms, bringing them both to their knees – but neither let go.

Basket kissed him, then, whispering his name between each one, trembling with shock as well as growing pleasure. He returned it, unburdened at last, and finally, he stopped holding back; he increased the pace, and Basket cried out his name, her face going to his shoulder so that she could bite down, just the way he loved: urgently, desperately...

_Passionately..._

It took no time after that for them both to come, and together.

That pleasure swelled up within them both, but instead of crashing into them and dragging them down, it simply wrapped around them and enfolded them.

Both were overcome, unable to think about anything else, barely able to breathe, let alone speak.

Nicky lowered her head, gasping with it. It was so strong that she had no choice but to feel it, and even with the distance, she shuddered, too, a soft moan escaping her.

Then, Olceal slowed to a stop, and Basket dropped beneath him, gasping for breath and shaking so hard that her teeth clicked together. Olceal buried his face into her neck and cried softly, kissing her there, then along it up to her ear, before kissing her trembling lips, again.

Nicky raised her head, her eyes still closed tight, before she managed to whisper, “Take your time...”

Olceal nodded, swallowing hard. Basket slowly opened her eyes, looking into his own, and she saw not shame or guilt, but something she hadn't expected: relief.

“I’ve never been able to word it,” he admitted hoarsely. “I didn't know how. But I’ve been desperate to show you, truly show you, how much I love you...”

“I love you,” Basket answered, sniffling. “I love you _so fucking much,_ Olly!”

“Then...” He nuzzled her cheek with his own, both damp with tears and sweat. _“Don't ever leave me...?”_

 _“Never,”_ she agreed fiercely, her eyes blazing with determination.

“Same,” Nicky agreed. She'd moved closer, holding their hands to her chest, her head lowered. She kissed both hands, then added, “Please, don't leave _me,_ too...?”

Basket looked up at her, just as Olceal managed to sit up a little. Nicky looked at him, her eyes dark and full of tears, and he nodded. Basket then sat up, too, before she leaned over and kissed Nicky's forehead, her own silent agreement.

Then, she whispered, “Nicky... let Olly in...?”

Nickname blinked, her mind snapping back to that one goal, and she nodded, her eyes going back to her husband – and seeing them light up, surprising her.

Basket moved carefully, sitting up and moving to the side, before she looked at Olceal. She realised, quite suddenly, that the most comfortable way for him right now would be if Nicky topped, as it would help his stamina and put no pressure on him.

But that also meant that one of his hands had to be pinned down to the bed, and she knew what that could lead to.

Nicky hesitated, not making this connection, yet, as she still didn't know the extent of Olceal's damage.

“How should we do this?” she asked him. “Are you very tired?”

He nodded shyly, and she blushed. “Oh!” she squeaked out, also shy. “So, I should...?”

Olceal nodded, again, looking quite intrigued by the idea, but Basket closed her eyes and bit her lip, saying nothing, yet.

Carefully, making sure to keep the connection sound and their souls close, Olceal moved to lie down where Basket did, and for a moment, he relaxed, sighing deeply and feeling better, already.

But then, it happened.

Nickname gently pressed the back of Olceal's hand to the bed, then carefully moved to straddle him, and Basket kept his other hand in her lap.

But he could only feel his other hand, held down.

It was enough to make him freeze, his eyes widening and going terrifyingly blank.

Nicky blinked when she noticed, stopping where she was, before she shifted herself down, sitting upon his thighs, instead. She felt a sinking in her belly, because she recognise that expression from last time, and her heart ached.

“We can stop now, Olly,” Basket then whispered, leaning down and nuzzling his bloodless cheek.

Olceal closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Inside, he felt that childish terror awaken within him, and he felt like that child, once more, and it hated it.

He didn't want to feel this way, anymore. He was tired of being held back like this, when all he wanted, in terms of sex, was to never hold anything back.

And Nicky didn't even understand everything, yet, which made him even more fed up He _needed_ her to understand, to see how he _truly_ felt about her, and knew that she needed to see it, too.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking first at Basket, who smiled so kindly at him and he sniffled, smiling at her in return, and gratefully.

Then, he looked at Nickname, whose pale face and stiff posture betrayed her fear, the fear of making him do something this intimate that he didn't want to. She understood that feeling, always respected it, and always honoured it.

This time would be no exception.

But his eyes suddenly glittered with the light of his magic, and she swallowed, in the instant feeling a jolt of heat snake through her; he was using his magic to warm her up – and in turn, make him hot, too.

Basket shivered, feeling it and smiling faintly. She shifted her feet beneath her, so that her heels were positioned in the best way, and she sighed, closing her eyes and smiling dopily for a moment.

“Nicks,” Olceal murmured. “Kiss me. Make this... make this into something I _love,_ something I associate _only_ with _you...?”_

Nicky was nodding before he finished, and had slid herself up, so that her legs were around his hips. She moved closer, angling her hips, and when he grunted – with a smile – she grinned, her eyes lighting up; he'd felt how slick and wet she still was against his slowly-hardening cock, and it helped.

She kissed him, then, and he groaned, his eyes rolling up. And when Nicky's tongue pushed between his lips, he gasped, his hand holding hers tighter, and barely even remembering that she had it held down.

By the time she'd pressed her body flat against his, he was rock-hard, their bodies grinding against each other in time with their kisses, their breaths short and their hearts racing.

Beside them, Basket's eyes were huge, taking in every wonderful detail, and she shifted a little, feeling a hum of pleasure when her heel rubbed against her in just the right way.

“Please,” Olceal suddenly rasped out. “I trust you, Nickname...”

Nicky blinked, her eyes burning, but she nodded. She sat up for a moment on her knees, moving to find a way to slid down onto his cock, and soon, she succeeded, using their combined hands to help.

She then pushed down, taking him into herself with no hesitation, and Olceal arched back, gasping again. Nicky lowered her head, panting, and pressed it against his chest, trembling.

She felt Olceal curl his fuzzy tail around her shin, and she smiled.

“When you're rea—” she began.

 _“Now!”_ Olceal cried. “Now, Nicks, _now!”_

Nicky nodded, pressing back down against him and kissing his lips again. When he returned it, she inhaled shakily – and started to move, slowly and carefully, in slow strokes that helped Olceal conserve his stamina without being overly sensitive.

Then, before either could think of anything else, their souls connected.

Olceal was overjoyed, and he practically picked Nicky up and ran her into the depths of his soul, her own laughter echoing in both of their minds.

But then, Nicky was startled, because then, she finally saw how Olceal truly felt about her.

And it was _not_ what she'd expected.

Instead, it was exactly what her sweetest dreams told her it _could_ be, in a perfect world...

Olceal and Nicky shared the exact same kind of love for Basket.

It was identical.

And neither had truly known it until now.

 _Both_ practically worshipped Basket, as to them, _she_ was the true sun, to their minute moons, and both shared the same annoyance that she saw herself as nothing but the smallest star.

Basket _was_ a star, like she imagined, but one that was the biggest of _suns;_ still a star, but so much better.

They both burst into physically laughter at that, their bodies stopping to instead succumb to the tremors that came with such happiness.

Basket started, surprised. She opened her eyes, her hands holding theirs tighter, and she whispered, “What? What's funny?”

But neither of her spouses could explain, because they both knew she'd deny it, argue over it, and they'd rather just relish in their agreement of how wonderful she truly was.

Instead, they both focused, and touched Basket's soul with theirs, so that she was momentarily overcome with pleasure and joy, and became speechless as a result. She did, shuddering and smiling happily, her eyes fluttering closed, so they focused back on each other.

When they both were sure she was distracted, Nicky and Olceal focused again on each other, and discovered even more in common.

Neither saw the other as competition.

Neither saw the other as not good enough for Basket.

Then, Nicky saw what she'd hoped she'd see, but never let herself hope for.

Olceal had absolutely _no_ hard feelings or resentment toward Nicky, _whatsoever,_ for changing this marriage.

In fact, Olceal revealed, he'd found that their marriage had not only improved, but blossomed into something even better than he could have ever imagined for either himself or Basket.

“O-oh,” Nicky gasped out, burying her face into Olceal's shoulder - and sinking her fangs into it, taking full advantage of this new knowledge. He gasped, laughing softly and with pleasant surprise.

 _Nicks,_ he said to her, privately, so that even Bass didn't hear. _It's not just about Basket._

Surprise bubbled up between them. _What do you--?_

But then, she felt herself pulled into his heart, and she saw... _everything._

The abuse. The loss. The loneliness. The agony.

She cried, seeing that, shame filling her. She even shifted, trying to move so that he could take her place, but he quickly stopped her, shaking his head.

Before she could ask, he showed her why.

He showed her, herself.

To him, Nicky was a surprise party: unexpected, but so wonderful and thrilling that he couldn't feel anything but joy.

He'd never expected to love anyone else in the entire world besides Basket.

And yet, when he saw how much Nicky loved Basket, he had no _choice_ but to fall in love with Nicky, too.

Then, _again,_ they both laughed in shock, because Nicky was once again showing him that it was the exact same for him.

 _“I love you,”_ they said as one, delighting not just each other, but Basket, too.

Nicky then pressed down flat against his body, kissing his tears away, before she listened to both of their bodies, and moved her own accordingly, so that they both grew closer and closer to that ultimate moment.

For a moment, Nicky didn't want to. She didn't want this to stop. She didn't want their connection to cease.

But then, she looked into Olceal's eyes, then Basket's, and realised that, in a way, it wouldn't.

That connection would remain, simply because, now, all three knew all there was to each other.

The very idea of it sent Nicky into a slight haze, before she focused and realised it was because she was close, again. When she looked at Olceal, again, he squeezed her hand, nodding – despite the fact that his eyes were closed tight.

“Don't stop,” he gasped out, begging her, and she did not.

They felt Basket press closer, before Nicky suddenly found her lips taken by her wife. Olceal chuckled, and before Nicky could kiss back, Basket had turned and kissed him.

 _“Come for me,”_ she then whispered to them both.

And instantly, they both stared at her, surprising her – but not each other.

The thing was, they knew she had no idea how meaningful it was for her to ask them both at once. They knew she was just being herself.

So, together, they tugged her closer, so that they could hold her between them. She'd barely adjusted before she caught their expressions – and recognised what both meant.

 _“Yes,”_ she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed, as she could feel her spouses' shared orgasm from afar, but still feel it.

Then, Basket's eyes snapped open.

At the same time, Nicky and Olceal cried out Basket's name, together. And she started to cry, despite the smile upon her face.

They clung hard – to her, to each other – and surrendered to that glorious physical pleasure, while also experiencing it with their souls.

And, as one, all three gasped – and blacked out. 

* * *

 Basket was the first to stir awake, and she was confused, her mind stupidly blank. She opened her eyes, surprised to find the room dark with moonlight.

Then, she realised that she was sandwiched between Nickname and Olceal, and she smiled.

She was lying across her front upon Olceal's chest, the rest of her lying on the bed. Nicky had trapped her, as she was lying across Basket's back, her head lolling a little off of her shoulder. Both she and Olceal were still pressed intimately together.

Their hands, however, had all parted, despite none of them even doing so before they slept – and Bass knew they were all way too tired to do it during that sleep.

She smiled, looking up at her husband.

For the first time since she'd ever known him, he was sleeping on his back, and with complete and utter peace. His lips were turned up, just a little, into a ghost of a smile, and he breathed comfortably and contentedly.

She shifted, trying to look at Nicky, but it was impossible. She shrugged, deciding to risk it, and she moved to wrap her arms around Nicky and held her against her own chest, but without moving her away from Olceal.

Nicky stirred, immediately moving to bury her face between Basket's breasts.

At that, Bass was sure her wife was awake, but when she peered closer, she saw that Nicky was fast asleep, and happily, too; she shared a similar smile with their husband.

Basket closed her eyes, laid back down against Olceal's chest, keeping Nicky against her own – before she relaxed, and drifted back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so rewarding to write. To explore these three, to be able to open them up and have their best parts mingle together... It was something special. 
> 
> Thank you, Nicky, for giving me a reason to, and for wanting to see it, too.


	7. A Moment (A Song For A Storm)

“Mom.”

A grunt.

“Mom, wake up.”

“Hnnngh... _why_...”

“Because it's past noon, Dad's at work, and I’m _starving!”_

“Okay...”

Silence.

_“Mom!”_

“Listen... Ask your Mami... I'm _beat_ , kid...”

A sigh, followed by heavy footsteps.

Then, “Mami?”

A soft sigh.

“Mami, I’m _starving_ , can we have some pizza?”

“Mm...”

Then, suddenly, Storm was lifted off of her feet and dragged into her mami's arms. She squirmed, but Nickname was strong, and held her tight, holding her to her chest as if she were five instead of ten.

“Mami...!” Storm whined, pushing at Nicky's shoulder.

Beside them, Basket reached up and covered Storm's mouth, and Storm bit her, frustrated.

Basket yelped and sat up, completely awake, now. She turned and glowered at her daughter, who glowered back.

Neither knew it, but they looked so alike in that moment that it was rather sweet, all things considered.

Slowly, Nicky sat up and made sure to remain between them, as while Basket never hit or slapped Storm (neither of them did), _Storm_ sometimes did _both_ , to _them_ , instead, and it always ended badly - for _everyone_.

Both Nicky's wife and her daughter went silent, Basket leaning over and resting her cheek on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky smiled and reached up, patting Basket's cheek several times, which in turn made her smile.

That smile calmed Storm down, too, but she was still hungry. “Mami,” she tried again, just as Nicky turned to her and gave her a sleepy smile. “I'm _starving!”_

“Okay,” Nicky agreed. “You said pizza?”

When Storm nodded, Nicky smiled at Basket, who blushed and looked away.

“Told you,” Nicky added.

“What?” Storm demanded, hating to be the only one out of the loop.

“Nicks figured you'd make us pay you in pizza if we overslept,” Basket replied, her voice flat.

And yet, despite her voice, she was smiling.

Storm blushed. “Well, so? You _did_ , so _gimme.”_

She was smirking by the end, and Basket laughed and tackled her, making her scream and protest, while Basket covered her face in messy kisses.

Nickname blinked, suddenly having one of _those_ moments, when time slows down. She watched them play, and inside, she felt her heart blossoming, more than she ever imagined was even _possible_.

She watched Basket tease and tickle their daughter, the daughter neither of them even knew they wanted until they got her, and Nicky felt... _surreal_.

Storm was ten, now, and had a personality all her own: she was stubborn, crass, loud, and spoilt, true. But she was also charming, hilarious, and loyal.

And she loved, with all of her soul.

They all loved her. She could be difficult and trying, and she knew which buttons to press if she wanted to truly hurt or anger either of her parents, as well as a penchant for wandering around outside without telling anyone (which in turn forced them to make an actual ID necklace, in case she got lost - and she did).

But they still loved her.

And Nicky got to see, first-hand, what she'd first seen in passing – and then later, in her sweetest dreams.

Basket was a wonderful mother, it turned out. While she was usually the disciplinarian, she was also the one whose opinion mattered most to Storm.

Basket could be hard on Storm, but usually because it frustrated her to see her daughter not living up to her full potential. And Storm knew that, and trusted her in turn – especially with honesty.

Basket had once confessed that she not only thought she was a terrible mother, but that she understood if Nicky and Olceal divorced her for it.

Looking at her, now, made the idea of that so _stupid_ to Nicky. Because anyone could see that Basket was an _amazing_ mother – except Basket, herself.

Instead, she always said that Nicky and Olceal were the only reasons why Storm was “as awesome” as she was.

But that wasn't _exactly_ true.

Olceal spoilt Storm, shamelessly and continuously, no matter how many times his wives protested. He gave her anything she wanted, because he loved her so much, and wanted her childhood to be as perfect as possible.

Sadly, this meant that Basket was usually the one who ended up being “the bad cop”, as she was the one who had to bring reality back into perspective. This usually meant Storm losing what she wanted, which made everyone unhappy, as it usually meant sulking or temper-tantrums.

Nicky understood why he did, though.

None of Storm's parents had a normal childhood (though Nicky felt _she_ had a wonderful one, all things considered), so Olceal wanted to ensure that his daughter lived her childhood as a _child_.

But she also understood Basket's side, too: that spoiling Storm only made things worse.

So Nicky usually ended up being the wild card when it came to arguments. She was seen as the balancing pole between two heavy weights, and in truth, she liked it. She found it worked well for her, and in turn, all four of them.

But sometimes, even Basket could be silly, and Storm loved it when she was – like now.

“Mom! _St-stoooop!”_ Storm squealed, shoving a finger up Basket's nose.

Basket spluttered and dropped back, landing on her side and grumbling under her breath, but Storm started laughing, delighted by how scrunched up Basket's face got.

Nicky bit her lip, looking away for a moment and clearing her throat, before she stood up and went to get her housecoat, finding herself unable to choke her tears back.

Storm was oblivious, struggling when she saw where Nicky was going, and she eyed Basket closely. “Mom,” she called.

Basket was frowning, staring after her wife with worry. Storm was a bit offended, as she'd just had her mom laughing, and now she was frowning, again.

Storm opened her mouth, but Basket turned to her, leaned close to one of her ears, and whispered, “Go hug your Mami, please.”

Storm blinked, but nodded, always happy to hug Nicky. She leapt up and darted after Nicky, colliding into her side and hugging onto her tight.

Nicky spluttered out a surprised laugh, stumbling a little, before she sniffled and hugged Storm to her tight.

Basket bit her lip. She'd been right; Nicky was upset about something.

When she sat up and watched her wife and her daughter, she noticed how hard Nickname was clutching Storm to her, her face averted and hidden by her hair.

 _Oh..._ Basket suddenly thought, immediately understanding, now. She smiled sadly, then got to her feet and walked over to them.

By then, Storm was rolling her eyes and patting Nicky's back lazily, looking at Basket with confusion, and yearning to be rescued.

Basket snorted, pulled the two apart, and grabbed Nicky, hugging onto her tight.

Nicky sobbed, latching onto her and burying her face into Basket's chest, and Basket's expression softened.

“Storm,” Basket said softly, her eyes meeting her daughter's. “Can you go pick out what you want to eat? Your Mami and I need to chat. Don't worry; it's _not_ about you.”

Storm relaxed, about to ask. “Okay,” she agreed, darting out of the room like a streak of green and red.

“Oh, Bassy,” Nicky cried, the second they were alone. “I'm sorry!”

“No, shush,” Basket murmured, kissing the top of her head, wincing a little when one of Nicky's horns poked into her chest. “I totally understand, love.”

Nicky blinked, then raised her head, her face red but surprised. “You do?”

“Of _course_ I do!” Basket replied, grinning and kissing her nose. “Me and Storm. It makes you really happy, doesn't it?”

Nicky's eyes brightened, and she smiled, nodding. “Yes,” she agreed, the expression on her face so sweet that Basket kissed her nose, again. “Exactly, Bassy... I... You know that I was scared... about Storm...”

“Yep,” Basket agreed, calmly. “So when you see proof that your fears were needless, it punches your heart.”

It surprised Nicky, but then again, maybe it shouldn't of; Basket really _had_ become a true parent, and she wore it well, despite her own doubts.

Instead of answering, Nicky darted down and kissed Basket's lips, instead, taking hold of her face and deepening it the second Basket returned it.

For a moment, there was only this: the tender, soothing embrace, one coupled with soft kisses and gentle words.

It calmed Nicky, brought her heartrate back down, and she closed her eyes, feeling so _lucky_ …

The two then heard the words, “I'm gonna start eating these menus, and I’ll _die_ of ink poisoning, and _it'll be your fault!”_

They both laughed, then kissed once more, before going downstairs to meet their daughter, arm-in-arm.

A beautiful start to a beautiful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With special thanks to smol-and-unknown, for providing one key trait of Storm's, for me :).


	8. True Emotion (The Flags Fly At Half-Mast)

One of the deepest hurts that Nickname had ever experienced was the loss of her two best friends, Jilly and Rayoss.

Because it was also directly related to when she realised she was – and always had been – aromantic and asexual.

* * *

 Not long after Toriel was scattered, Basket had a grief attack and ended up staying in bed, unable to stop crying. Olceal had tried, and when he failed, she felt even worse.

Olceal begged Nicky to try, so she went to their bedroom, one she hadn't moved into, yet, and sat down next to Basket, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder.

Basket sniffled, then reached out and grabbed Nicky's hand, pulling on it. Nicky blushed shyly, but was eager to comply, and she laid down next to Basket, cuddling her close. Basket buried her face into Nicky's shoulder, still crying, but at least she was responding.

“Bassy,” Nicky whispered, rubbing her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

Basket shrugged, her face still hidden.

Nicky was silent for a moment, thinking. This was still all so new to her, and she marvelled at how she'd even got here.

And she remembered, suddenly, how she'd once been in a situation that could have ended up like this, had she felt the way they'd wanted her to feel.

With that memory, she realised it was one she wanted - no, _needed_ \- to tell.

“Bassy, did I ever tell you the reason why Rayoss and Jilly stopped talking to me, after high school?”

Basket was quiet for a moment, before she shook her head, one hand squeezing Nicky's arm.

“Would you like to know it, now?”

Basket nodded, making Nicky smile for a moment. She'd been right: curiosity was Basket's strength and weakness.

“Okay,” Nicky agreed. “But first, I need to confess something to you. You... you _weren't_ my first kiss.”

Basket was silent, unmoving for a moment.

Then, she nodded, squeezing Nicky's knee, this time, and Nicky relaxed, relieved that Basket wasn't upset by this confession. (Which was true; Basket had always assumed such a thing, as she felt one had to at least _try_ before they knew they couldn't, for sure.)

“Alright,” Nicky said, before she settled herself more comfortably, pulled Basket closer to her, and began.

* * *

A few months after graduation, during that strange purgatory between summer and school, Nicky caught the bus she always took to Jilly's house, to meet up with both her and Rayoss.

Nicky was relieved to have something to do. She'd already prepared herself for Ryerson, save the few things she could only do the day she left, and had spent the free time either fussing over her bags, or spending time online with Basket, either on messenger or in-game.

This was a nice break in the monotony. She loved Basket, and never tired of her, but she still needed something else to do. She knew Basket wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, but it was still nice to see someone else she loved, too.

Rayoss had called her, asking her to come over to spend the night, as they wanted to talk to her about school. He sounded so serious, so completely unlike his usual jovial self, that she was worried.

She hoped everything was okay. She'd been worried that the stress of Jilly staying home to work in her chosen trade, and Rayoss's decision to go to George Brown, would break them apart. She'd even asked, both of them, but was assured that it wasn't bad news.

Maybe so, but Nicky was still worried. She didn't want to lose either of them, and truly hoped that this was why they wanted to see her: to reassure her that she wouldn't.

She was right, but in a way that she never anticipated.

And because of it, _everything_ changed – and without any hope of reversal, as it ended up being the _opposite_ of what _anyone_ wanted.

She didn't know it, but there was no going back, now.

* * *

Hugs.

Nicky truly loved them. She loved the feel of someone holding her, of squeezing her close, of physical comfort.

Her parents – and her grandparents, especially – were very big on hugs. Asriel was, too, to the point that it honestly confused Nicky as she grew older, until she asked her mother about it.

Frisk had smiled sadly, touching Nicky's cheek. “Asriel spent years in a body that kept him from physical intimacy,” she'd explained gently. “He tried; he would wrap vines around me, and squeeze a little, just a _little_ too tight, so I wouldn't get the idea that it was the affection it truly appeared to be...”

Frisk then blinked hard, then blushed, her eyes filling with tears, surprising them both.

“Sorry,” she'd murmured, her voice breaking. “Those years were hard, for both of us. We were both so alike, so confused, and with wishes that could never come true, so we lied to each other, a lot.”

Then, Frisk had smiled, faintly, once again surprising them both. “I tried, too. I’d pat his head, ruffle his petals... But it wasn't the same.”

She'd paused, so Nicky touched her hand. Frisk took it, and went on, holding it tight.

“So when...” Frisk had then paused and coughed a little, then went on. “So when we saved each other, and Alphys saved us both, one of the first things we ever did, in his mind, was hug.”

Nicky's eyes had filled with tears, then, because the sudden look of happiness, one that spread over Frisk's face, was so real that she had to weep.

“We were barely your age, sort of,” Frisk then whispered, her eyes wide and unfocused. “And we already felt _so old._.. We _needed_ that embrace, because we needed to hold each other up...”

“And from there, he never stopped?” Nicky had wondered, when Frisk was silent for a while.

“He couldn't,” she'd agreed. “He'd missed too much, had had to smother his love for too long, and was desperate to finally express it all.”

And she'd laughed softly, her smile bright if teary. “And he says he's still paying us back.”

* * *

Nicky remembered that, now, with deep fondness, as she felt Jilly hug her tight, having to stand on her toes to do so. Nicky laughed and hugged back, and when they parted, Jilly beamed up at Nicky with an expression of pure joy—and something else, something Nicky didn't recognise, or understand.

_Yet._

“Hi!” her human friend greeted her, her deep voice a little higher than normal with – Nicky could see – was excitement.

Maybe this isn't bad news, after all, Nicky thought, starting to feel herself relax.

Jilly led her down the stairs of the basement apartment she and Rayoss were starting to move into, and Nicky had to admit that, though small, it was still _way_ bigger than her dorm room.

Though, it should be said: both her grandparents had insisted her room be private, and bought Ryerson off to make it happen, both embarrassing her and comforting her, really. She was petrified of other people, despite her eventually ease with them, and wasn't ready to share living space with _anyone_ , yet.

So to see her two friends living together in such small quarters – but with such obvious happiness from being able to do so – was nice, indeed.

Rayoss greeted them both at the door, and once more, Nicky was given a wonderful hug, one she returned quite happily.

When she pulled away, she noticed her two friends exchanging a glance at each other, but she didn't understand it.

“Good to see you, Nicky,” he admitted, throwing his arm around her shoulders and leading her into the apartment.

She looked around, finding it rather nicely furnished, despite everything being second-hand. There was a sofabed couch, an armchair, a dining set, and a TV and stand. Several consoles littered the floor in front of the TV, all hooked up to it.

The kitchen was tiny, but well-kept, the appliances still in good condition despite obviously being more than a decade old.

And around the corner of the kitchen, down a narrow hall, was one bedroom, and the bathroom.

It was nice. It was a place Nicky could easily see her friends living happily within, for several years, too.

Rayoss sat her down on the couch, and she laughed, especially when he kept his arm around her. Jilly walked over to them, sitting on Nicky's other side, and she was holding her phone.

“Let's get food, first, and watch a fun movie,” Jilly suggested, perplexing Nicky further.

What could possibly need to be kept held back for so long, if it wasn't bad news?

But Nicky still agreed, and for a moment, they were distracted, arguing playfully over various choices.

After, as they waited, Nicky tried to ask them to tell her, now, but it seemed almost as if they'd known that, and instead distracted her with the movie.

Her favourite, since she was tiny: _Spirited Away._

She smiled warmly at them, and they grinned back, first at her, then at each other. Nicky sat down beside Jilly on the couch, as Rayoss started it up, and soon, she again found herself sandwiched between her two best friends, and she giggled softly, tickled by it.

It was comforting, being surrounded by friendliness and warmth, with people she trusted almost as much as her parents. She easily relaxed, allowing the familiar comfort of the movie to wash over her, too.

They paused it when the food arrived, and settled back once they were eating.

It was a wonderful pocket of time, one Nicky knew she'd never forget, and was completely right.

When the movie finished, there was still time for one more, as all three were tired, but not _that_ tired. They decided to watch Ghost World, Jilly's favourite, and once again, there was comfort and warmth.

But by the end of Ghost World, Nicky was nodding off, her head tilting back against the couch, or sometimes drooping forward, which woke her each time.

“That was wonderful,” Nicky admitted sleepily.

Then, she jolted. “Wait, you had something you wanted to talk to me about...?”

Again, her friends exchanged a look she didn't understand, and she bit her lip, worried, now.

She looked down at her hands, then whispered, “Is it me? Are you angry with me, for going to Ryerson?”

“No!” Jilly said, quickly, grabbing one of Nicky's hands into her own, and Nicky looked up at her. Jilly looked serious, her dark eyes glinting. “It's about school, sort of, but it's also about... us.”

When Nicky blinked, confused, Jilly added, “The _three_ of us, Nicky.”

“What do you mean?' Nicky wondered.

“We don't want you to move into a dorm, Nicky,” Rayoss then broke in, and she looked at him, his raccoon-like face as serious as Jilly's. “We want you to move in with us.”

Nicky blushed, embarrassed. “I can't,” she admitted. “For several reasons. But the first of which is, how? It's a one-bedroom!”

Rayoss opened his mouth, then shut it, now looking as confused as Nicky felt. “Wait, Nicky,” he stammered, touching her shoulder. “Do you not understand what we're asking you?”

“To move in,” she agreed. “But I don't think it's a good idea, especially since the sofabed isn't the best...”

Jilly inhaled sharply, getting Nicky's attention, again. She was worried she'd get whiplash, with how often she had to move her head. But Jilly kept her face hidden behind her long black hair, confusing Nicky, further.

“What's wrong?” she asked, feeling a sinking within her gut.

Rayoss reached out, getting her attention, and when she turned to him, he cupped his hand around her cheek. She blinked, her eyes going wide and her face burning red, and she didn't move, completely confused, now.

Then, Rayoss leaned up (she was taller than them, both) and kissed her, right on her lips.

Nicky jerked back with a gasp, her hand going to her mouth, but in turn tumbling into Jilly. She opened her mouth, to try to ask what was going to, when Jilly touched her other cheek, and this time,  _she_ was the one who kissed Nicky's lips.

Again, Nicky pulled away, moving back so fast that she tumbled to the floor, her mind swimming and her vision clouding with dizziness. She laid there, not moving, not even sure what was _happening_.

Then, she croaked out, “Did both of you just... _kiss_ me?”

“Yes,” Jilly and Rayoss agreed, not even a second apart.

When Nicky looked up, she saw them smiling at each other. She froze, staying on the floor, pulling her legs off of the couch and hugging them to her, her whole body shaking.

She hadn't liked it.

She hadn't liked either of those kisses.

At all.

And she hadn't realised that she _wasn't_ surprised that she hadn't liked it, until just now, in these tiny seconds between words.

Nicky had known all along.

She just had refused to accept it until now.

But it was _true_.

“Why?” she asked weakly, trying to swallow her tears.

“Nicky, you really had no idea...?” Jilly asked her, leaning down and resting her elbows on her knees, staring Nicky right in the eyes.

Nicky blushed, biting her lip and shaking her head, and Jilly looked at Rayoss, shocked.

“For _years_ , Nicky,” Rayoss agreed, grabbing Jilly's hand, tight, “Since we were tiny kids, both Jilly and I had assumed that you were with us, too, and were just waiting for graduation to start with us, at last."

Nicky closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing hard, again.

She felt so _stupid_.

She truly _hadn't_ had any idea.

They'd never kiss her, beyond soft pecks on the cheeks, and they always hugged and sat close together.

Because they were _best friends,_ and they _loved_ each other...

 _“Oh...”_ Nicky whispered, covering her mouth with one hand, leaning forward and trembling from the effort of holding back her tears. She made sure her hair hid her face, before she let loose a few tears, struggling to stay calm.

She'd messed up. Big time.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice wavering with pain. “I'm _so sorry_... I… I’m… I don't...”

She stammered, realising she actually didn't _know_ what she was, or didn't do, because she didn't even realise such a thing was real, until she realised it had been real, within her, the entire time.

Jilly smiled kindly, though her eyes were bright with tears. She reached out and touched Nicky's knee.

“You're asexual?” she asked, her voice as kind as her face.

Nicky frowned, unsure, so she said, “I... The idea of... sex, of romance, of both...”

She winced. “I don't like it. I don't like it, at all. It makes me uncomfortable. It's too much. I just...”

She lowered her head and covered it with her arm. “I just want to love and be loved, like in a family... I don't know what that's called, but it's me.”

“Aromantic asexual,” Jilly told her, and Nicky sniffled, her ears twitching. “Aro-ace. That's what it's called.”

She paused, so Rayoss added, his voice strained. “It's something you probably need to look up,” he agreed.

Nicky looked up, realising that she was crying, but unable to hold back.

Because they were crying, too.

“Nicky, we _love_ you,” Rayoss admitted. “In a romantic, and sexual, way.”

Jilly nodded, moving closer to Rayoss, eager for comfort. “We... we wanted you... to be a triad with us.”

Nicky felt her heart crack. Because she realised, with that one revelation, that she’d lost them, forever.

“I can't,” she admitted. “I'm sorry. I wish I could, but I can't!” Her own voice broke, and she covered her face. “I can't! _I can't!”_

Gently, she felt them take her hands, and pull her back onto the couch. They hugged her between them, again, and she clung to them, breaking down, the hardest of all three, because she realised what she was about to lose – and _hated_ herself for it.

* * *

When they went to bed, Nicky didn't sleep. She stayed up until dawn, not even changing her clothes or unpacking anything, and stayed on her phone, researching those terms Jilly had given her.

By dawn, she knew she had to leave before they woke up. She didn't want them to see her, again. She wanted their last moment together to be the one on the couch, comforting each other, and saying goodbye, without actually saying the words.

She didn’t leave a note. She just got up and left, and was on the first bus of that day's route, her heart bleeding and her soul full of pain.

She never heard from them, again.

Not even when she'd managed to track them down on Undernet and beg them to, still, they did not.

Clearly, they had wanted all of her, or none at all.

And it was why, throughout all of her secondary schooling and her chosen career, she never bothered to try and make a friend, again.

It wasn't worth it.

It hurt too much.

* * *

“No wonder you were so scared,” Basket whispered.

She had brought her face out from Nicky's shoulder, and her tears had actually slowed, surprising Nicky.

“Because you'd already been so burned by them, and here we were, the same kind of couple...” Basket paused. “And then, when you thought I was rejecting you, it was like the worst kind of irony...”

“Kind of, yeah,” Nicky agreed, “Bassy, you know I’m _still_ ace, right?”

“Yup. Well,” Basket grinned at her. “Demisexual. Demi."

Nicky went pink, pleased that she knew that - because it meant she cared about Nicky, enough to learn about it, and memorise the terms. “Yes!” she agreed.

Basket smirked a little, then bit her lip, hesitating. “I think,” she said, her fingers reaching up and tracing the black band on Nicky's finger. “I think we should add some purple to this, don't you...?”

And Basket smiled, her tears completely gone now. 

Nicky grinned back at her, her face going red, and she felt a wave of gratitude sweep through her, alongside so much affection for Basket.

Here Basket was, hoping to be comforted, and yet _she_ was the one who was doing the comforting.

Nicky bit her lip. She leaned down and nuzzled Basket's cheek, gently, and Basket looked up at her, smiling wider.

“Bassy, I love you,” Nicky confessed, once more, feeling a little thrill when she did.

She felt an even better thrill when Basket's face lit up, and she replied, “I love you, too, Nicky. Always.”

And they embraced, and didn't let go for some time – and only to let Olceal in, between them.

_Always._


	9. Sky Full Of Song(Knight)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, my first fanfic for the year. And an Abovetale fic! Not the one people expected! But I had a huge technical issue with the fourth chapter of Christmases, and lost over 2k words. To cheer myself up until I am ready to try again, I wrote this. It's pure baby fluff, and you'll recognise where I got the idea from once the next chapter of Christmases finally goes up. 
> 
> Sorry and enjoy?

The first time they discovered it had been _awful_ , for everyone involved.

It was a Tuesday night, in late October. There had been a particularly bad period of cold, wet weather, lately, and they were calling for thunderstorms at night and frozen roads by morning, or vice-versa.

Neither of them knew if they had a preference, save not having it happen at all.

It was also not anybody's fault; Storm was a tiny baby, and was _barely_ seven weeks old. She was still a newborn, and was still trying to figure this whole “outside world” thing out...

* * *

By then, all three had grown accustomed to their nights filled with Storm's crying for Nicky. At this stage, babies did very little but cry, eat, and pass fluids (not just waste; this included her nose, and drool, and especially when she burped up milk by accident). Nicky was the one to usually get up, not because she was the only one not working. Often, either Basket or Olceal would either get up with her; or bring Storm to Nicky in bed; or, if Storm was simply fussy or in need of a change, would leave Nicky behind, to sleep, and handle it themselves.

Despite what seemed to be a long, frustrating babyhood, it was actually a rather calm one, so far. Storm was smart, and growing fast, and all three parents were shocked by how fast it was.

But til then, in her current slug stage, Storm had _many_ needs and wants. Luckily, her parents adored her, and she always got what she wanted (a future look at how Storm began to be a _little_ spoilt her first ten years). They'd agreed that her crib would stay in their room until Storm was at least two or three months old, or could sleep through the night on her own. For now, she stayed with her parents, behind a curtained (for privacy) cradle in the closest corner to their bed.

One of the joys that all three shared was when Storm fell back asleep against either of them, so comforted by them that no nightmare stood a chance. It was flattering, to be trusted by someone so small, who needed to trust to simply survive. Sometimes, she preferred Basket, then Olceal, but mostly, she preferred Nicky.

And Nicky preferred her. There was nothing in the world right now that made Nicky happier, than when she was holding Storm against herself, keeping eye-contact with her as she raised her head and met her gaze, her tiny fists holding handfuls of Nicky's shirt. Her smile was sometimes tentative to start – before blooming into one Nicky would never tire of.

Nicky also loved it when Storm was like that for either of her spouses, her second-favourite thing about Storm. It was obvious that she would always prefer Nicky, because Nicky was her dam, and was her primary caretaker during Storm's first year. But she still loved and adored her other two parents, and seeing it made Nicky happy.

With Basket, she preferred to play the most with, as Basket was the one who spoke the loudest, and Storm was attracted to - and remembered - her voice. It made all three realise that she really _had_ heard Basket while she spoke to Nicky's belly, and her voice was second only to Nicky's.

Olceal, however, was different. He was Storm's mode of transportation – her favourite, above Nicky, even though Nicky was the tallest. She preferred to be held by Olceal if moved from place to place, and would often try to grab him when she wanted to look at something high up, or was simply walking by her, and she wanted a ride. He was her ladder and her segway, and Olceal was absolutely fine with this, beaming every time.

And so far, she slept very well at night... when compared to other babies. She of course woke up, many times, crying for food, or warmth, or a fresh diaper. At one point, they soon realised that she also cried from _loneliness_ – the one thing that made her cry with tears in her eyes. If she was prematurely taken away from something, be it a toy, or a lap, or a preferred embrace, she _wailed_ , as if they were hurting her, a sound that hurt them all (poor Nicky; she ruined a lot of shirts, thanks to the amount of crying she heard, and how her body reacted to each time...).

Storm still was a very good sleeper, and slept heavy, even when transported from chest to bed. She never woke during the short walk back to her crib, and they soon could hear her adorable little sleep-breathing, a sound that soothed all three back to their own sleep.

 _This_ night had started especially easy; Storm had fallen asleep right on schedule, and had given her parents a solid four hours in a row of heavy sleep – a miracle, they thought at first.

But it was actually just balancing out what happened during the middle of the fifth hour of needed sleep.

* * *

It was raining when they went to bed, all remembering what the news had said. None of them had considered the possibility of a storm, nor did they realise that Storm had actually never lived through one, yet, save in Nicky's uterus - a different experience, indeed. 

That was also why they all fell asleep so quickly; the rain had become a soothing symbol to them, ever since Nicky confessed her love of it – and Olceal, his fear of it, until the day he married Nicky. Since then, Olceal had been able to feel the same as Nicky. And of course _Basket_ loved rain: she was her mother's daughter, after all.

It was why they named their baby Storm in the first place: to remind them how soft and soothing rain could be, even while wild and powerful.

That night, they had a reality check, and remembered how storms could actually be.

* * *

Nicky wasn't sure what woke her – the thunder, or the screaming. Perhaps both, because she had scrambled to her feet the second she recognised that sound.

Only... this was different. Storm's crying - _screaming_ \- was pitched differently, a _new_ pitch, and when Nicky reached her, Storm had tears running down her face, her arms out and reaching, even before she saw Nicky.

The poor stoat-goat-fishlizard looked _terrified_ , a look Nicky had never seen, before, and it made her own eyes fill with tears, just as she leaned down and scooped her baby up.

By now, both Basket and Olceal were awake, and Olceal had turned on his lamp. Even he flinched, but all three suddenly had no self: they were all focused as one on Storm, alone.

 _“That's_ not okay,” Basket said, her own voice high-pitched, her own eyes wide with fear of her own. “What's wrong with her? D-do we need the ER?”

During this, Storm still cried, in that new tone, but her voice had softened once she recognised Nicky, and softened more once the light was on, and heard Basket's voice.

“I don't know,” Nicky admitted, her stomach sinking. She tried to lie Storm back down into her crib, to check her for messes or injuries done in her sleep, but other than her bowels forgetting to work from her fear, nothing seemed _wrong_.

It also helped that the storm was just starting, and there was this generous pause in-between.

Nicky used it to change Storm, but was actually _fought_ ; Storm kept making angry, frustrated sounds, in between sobs. She even grabbed one of Nicky's fingers and tried to prise it off of her, looking more and more desperate, her eyes still full of tears, and when she failed, she cried harder.

It was a struggle, one that made Nicky cry harder, too. Storm had _never_ fought her like this, before, and it felt _personal_ , somehow. Nicky tried to manage it; she held Storm within the crib for a few moments, and knew her spouses were poised to get up if she even looked at them.

At first, Storm did seem a little better, clearly feeling better with her new cleanliness. She still fussed a great deal, and her eyes wouldn't leave Nicky's face, especially when she wiggled, and Nicky held her still.

Soon, Storm started to work herself up, her arms and legs reaching and kicking, to get free of Nicky's grasp. The sudden, new kind of violence of such actions worsened Storm's tears, and her scream-crying returned, not _wanting_ to be held down, or her arms and legs restrained in swaddling...

It was clear that Storm was not only awake and scared, but desperate not to be _alone_ through it, as well as to _not_ feel trapped by it, something Nicky's actions clearly made her feel...

Nicky's heart melted, and she picked Storm back up, again, aware that by doing so, she'd done something the books said _not_ to. But _her_ instinct told her that if she left Storm alone, again, she would hurt herself trying to get back to her dam.

And Nicky was too good a mother to allow even a chance of that.

So she walked Storm back over to their bed and sat down, first, pressing Storm against her chest, before lying back a bit and keeping her close. Nicky found herself immediately cookied by Basket and Olceal, and that helped Nicky dry her own tears, as well as Storm's.

And then, just as it seemed like Storm would cheer up, even smile, there was a flash of lightning.

And just like that, the power went out.

“Fuckdammit,” Basket growled.

She spoke too soon; right after, there was a _huge_ thunderclap, louder than the first, and they actually _felt_ it a little, a few things shaking on the shelves.

Storm started to scream, again, before trying to push herself deeper into Nicky's arms, as if able to hide beneath her skin. She screamed without pause, the sound hurting each of her parent's hearts, before she choked for breath, and her head dropped upon Nicky's chest, her face buried there as she gasped for breath, every exhale a sob of dismay.

Storm didn't like this, and was terrified that it would never end. She was trying to hide within Nicky's arms, because she couldn't return to her womb, where she'd been _protected, safe_...

Quickly, Nicky switched her position, scared of suffocating Storm, so that she was lying down in her arms, instead. Storm _hated_ that, and tried to throw herself back up into Nicky's chest.

Both Basket and Olceal tried to help, by holding Storm in place, or petting and talking to her to distract her, but they  _infuriated_ Storm, and she protested their interference each time, sometimes trying to hit them away...

Feeling helpless, now, tears running down her cheeks in near-panic, Nicky brought Storm back against her chest, only this time, she'd unbuttoned her pyjama top. She then shifted Storm back to lying down, but had led her nipple to Storm's mouth, just as she opened it to scream, again.

Instead, she latched right on, and suckled quite intently, her hands holding Nicky's breast on both sides, while she kept trying to move herself closer, especially against Nicky's bare skin, even while still drinking. Her eyes were still wide open and overflowing with tears.

Nicky could feel it, then: her little baby was _shaking_ _with fear._

Nicky burst into tears, unable to help it _. “I'm a horrible mother!”_ she cried, before she buried her face into the top of Storm's head, actually calming Storm a little more, but not stopping her tears – or Nicky's.

“No, _what_?” Basket demanded. “Nicks, _no_.” She moved closer, and started to stroke Storm's wispy hair, while moving her face close enough to Nicky's, so her nose nuzzled her neck.

“Agreed,” Olceal replied, kissing the top of Nicky’s head, before he pulled it from Storm's, and held her face between his hands. “How could you have known _this_ would happen? The only way to know for sure is to experience it, right?”

Nicky stared at him, listening while still crying, her hold on Storm tightening, just a little. He was right, she knew he was, but she still felt horrible, like she'd somehow rigged it to hurt her own child.

“Also--,” Basket was about to add, but was cut off by a flash of lightning. She went with it, going quiet with speed, simply doing what she was about to say, instead, reaching over to her nightstand and grabbing her phone and headphones.

Before anyone else could react, Basket suddenly grabbed the headphones and pressed them to Storm's ears.

As soon as the thunder hit, Basket had managed to press play on her phone, so glad she'd listened to music before bed, that night, not even remembering which song it was...

Storm still heard the thunder, and it made her jump and stop nursing, about to scream, again. Basket, however, was already increasing the volume of the song now playing, and Storm got out a small shriek – until she realised she heard music, now.

Storm went still, her eyes wide and confused, as did her parents. Nicky could still feel her shaking, and her breaths were quick and raspy. Her eyes were locked on Basket's, now, and Basket looked back, smiling weakly and nodding. She held the headphones in place, trying to adjust them, but Storm's ears weren't made for that kind of set of headphones.

Storm had stopped nursing, looking scared, still, but she _was_ quiet, focused on Basket and the music, especially now that the thunder had paused.

“Olly,” Basket hissed, just as there was a pause. “Earbuds!”

Olceal nodded and grabbed his pair, and Basket took them, quickly replacing her headset with his buds. They fit right into Storm's ears, unsurprisingly, and again, they waited.

Storm blinked several times, her head tilting slightly, to and fro, as she tried to figure it out (it was so cute). She started making noises, but this time, despite her teary face, they were _curious_ sounds, perplexed and interested sounds. Her eyes went to each parent, but when they smiled at her – and took turns kissing her – she looked back up at Nicky and touched her still-bared breast, uttering a soft request.

Nicky started crying, again, but nodded, and gently led Storm back to her breast and nipple, and Storm was so relieved that she latched on at once, again.

This time, however, Nicky could feel the difference. Storm's tail had been between her legs, but it now slowly drifted away, and to the side. Her eyes stayed open – but her tears had slowed. She seemed _very_ intent on listening to the music, as well as eating, and both were able to keep her attention.

When the next flash of lightning lit up their room, Storm did flinch a little, her eyes narrowing.

But when the thunder rolled right after it, so loud that it seemed physical, again, Storm did jump, and her eyes did go wide and scared, but she didn't pull away from Nicky. Instead, she snuggled closer, her eyes slowly closing, and her ears twitched a little, clearly focusing on the music, now, too.

 _“Fuck,”_ Basket breathed out again, leaning back and covering her face for a moment, taking several shaky, relieved breaths. This was the first time any of them had heard Storm cry like this, and it _terrified_ Basket, so certain that Storm was sick, or hurt, or worse...

She didn't notice her spouses staring at her, not until she picked up her phone and set the song on repeat, to keep Storm focused, still. Basket started smirking a little when she saw which one it was.

She then felt eyes on her, and jumped, looking worried. “Wh-what? What did I do? What did I f-fuck up?”

“No, dummy,” Olceal murmured, reaching over Basket and touching her cheek. His other hand was on Nicky's shoulder.

Basket blinked, her eyes closing for a moment from his touch, but she was still confused. “What, then?” she pressed, stroking Storm's hair and scratching her ears.

Nicky's eyes flared when she felt Storm's reaction to Basket's touch, and she struggled yet again to keep her tears at bay; the last thing they all needed was to keep confusing poor Storm with their own intense emotions...

But Nicky knew she had to say it. “Bassy, she's wagging her tail,” she murmured weakly, her eyes on her wife's.

Basket lit up. “Really?! She is?!”

She moved closer and looked, and sure enough, she could see the tail-disruption beneath Storm's loosened swaddling blankets – one that increased upon seeing Basket's face, again.

Nicky looked over at Olceal, who was staring at Basket, too. They realised that, once again, their wife had no idea what she'd just done – just that it had worked, and Storm felt better.

When Storm was happy, she looked like Nicky, and that would always make Basket extra-happy, too.

In this context, _especially_ so.

Before either could explain, Basket then grinned and held up her phone. Just as another flash of lightning lit the room, Nicky and Olceal saw it.

 _Sky Full Of Song_.

That was the song that Storm was listening to, now, on repeat. If Basket tried to change the song – and she said, “Stormy’s so neat. Look!” – Storm would look... _displeased_ , the only word for such an expression. She would start to look at Basket with this expression, fussing a bit, before Basket went back to _Sky Full Of Song_. Once Storm recognised the now-soothing song, she quieted, making calm noises, instead, her eyes warming up once they met her mum's.

“Told you I’m magical,” Basket added happily, her own tail a blur, now.

But they heard it: a waver in her voice, one of uncertainty, and anxiety.

She _was_ proud of herself, proud that she'd been able to think of a solution, and that it worked so well, too.

She felt... _better_.

It made her feel like a _good_ mum, something she'd been worried about ever since Nicky went into labour.

Now, Basket felt a little more relaxed, and more comfortable, when calling herself a mother.

Now, Basket was starting to _feel_ like one.

It would be unfair to her to imply that all Bass brought Storm was unhappiness, though Bass feared it, and sometimes thought she had proof that Storm didn't like her. But that “proof” was always debunked, and she wasn't the only one who'd felt that way.

Nicky, herself, had cried, and had just called herself a bad mother. Olceal, too, became scared, whenever he was spending time with Storm, and when she would start to cry, he would, too.

Each parent had that knee-jerk reaction: 'Storm is crying, because the parent holding her is doing it wrong.'

But the reality was that they were each excellent parents, still learning how their child _worked_. And this was alongside their child figuring out how _anything_ worked around her.

These first few weeks had been all about learning Storm's basic needs, and Storm was still learning how to teach them. Of course none of them were bad parents, just like Storm wasn't a bad baby.

Before she could respond to her wife, Nicky felt Storm pull away, full at last. It made Nicky wonder if she'd been taking her time, in order linger upon Nicky's breast, to feel as safe as possible for as long as possible, until Storm, herself, was soothed, and felt safe, at last.

When Nicky pulled her up against her and patted her back, the cloth slipped down and off Storm, because it was _impossible_ to keep it in place, now. Nicky closed her eyes, biting her lip hard to keep from sobbing, because all three parents saw it fall, and realised what it meant.

Storm was wagging her tail, again, awkwardly and without the ease of practise, but still wagging it.

All three knew that it was a good sign, as they, too, had tails, and all three did the same when happy.

 _Storm was_ _happy_.

She burped, then made a soft, amused murmur, before she raised her head slowly, and turned it to look around (Nicky kept her hand on the back of her head, just in case). As she did, lightning flashed, but instead of flinching, Storm narrowed her eyes, then seemed to forget.

She looked up at Nicky with a toothless smile, one hand going right into Nicky's mouth, but Nicky was used to this, and pretended to bite it, smiling through her happy tears. Storm squealed and wiggled, her tail now a blur.

When they heard _and_ felt the next bowling-arena sound of thunder, Storm flinched, her eyes growing scared for a moment, before her ears twitched, and she actually calmed down.

“Babies are _so fucking cool!_ She's so _smart_ , holy shit!” Basket breathed out, starting to stroke Storm's hair, again. _She_ was grinning, too, unaware that Storm shared that same grin.

Both Nicky and Olceal had noticed, as they'd been watching both closely, and saw how Storm handled herself – and how she responded to Basket.

Olceal almost missed it, too, still distracted by how stunning Basket was at this moment. When he looked at Nicky, he saw that it was something she was struggling with, too.

Both exchanging a similar, knowing look, one that worsened, when Storm felt Basket's touch and turned to her. Basket again lit up happily, even as the lightning lit her up, too.

But then, _Storm_ lit up, the second her eyes met Basket's, and suddenly, she was trying to speak, going silent when the music distracted her (her eyes would blink a lot, and her ears twitched), but starting up, again, once focused.

Basket started crying, without realising it. She'd been so desperate to see Storm smile, again, that her heart ached once she did, relief and love flooding through her, and chasing the memory of those screams away.

“Bass,” Olceal croaked out, shifting uncomfortably, his face red. “How did you even _think_ of that?”

Nicky smiled at him gratefully, too worked up to ask. She was also red, and had bent one leg, moving to sit on her foot. She shifted, so subtly that only Olceal noticed, and when she had achieved her goal, she closed her eyes, briefly, biting her lip.

Olceal moved closer, his hand going to Nicky's thigh, now that it was close enough, and Nicky swallowed hard, his touch making her push her heel up and between... somewhere... and she purred softly, feeling Olceal hold her thigh tighter; it made her smile.

Absolute oblivious of any and all of this, Basket shrugged, her finger now tracing Storm's adorably random features. Storm smiled wider and squirmed, this time happily, especially when Basket's touch tickled her. One hand reached out, and Basket held her index finger up for her to grab. She did, and shrieked – but happily, this time, even wiggling a little, her smile bright.

Both Olceal and Nicky were _speechless_ , now.

Of the three, Basket had the most doubts when it came to being a parent, and declared at least once a day that she was terrible. And yet, from day one, Basket had proven to be a wonderful mother, something that would continue throughout Storm's life, despite being the disciplinarian parent. She always, _somehow_ , caught a detail that the other two missed, and in ways that were _essential_ to Storm's growing personality, and proved, each time, how good she actually was.

Wordlessly, Nicky suddenly pulled Storm away from her, her mouth too dry to explain. Storm frowned, her eyes going back to Nicky's; she clearly heard very little, so Nicky spoke with body language, instead.

She held Storm away from herself for a moment, and when she simply frowned and became confused, Nicky smiled at her.

Storm watched Nicky sharply, as Nicky began to bring Storm closer to Basket, instead of back to herself, and two things happened.

 _Basket_ became confused, holding her hands up to take Storm, all while struggling to find the words to ask why or remind them that _Nicky_ was the one who should hold Storm, right now, not her.

But the second thing made Basket silent, because it was the answer she _needed_ , one that shocked her so much that _she_ started to cry harder.

The moment Storm understood what Nicky was doing, she turned to Basket and _screeched_ , her arms and legs flailing and kicking as she grinned up at her mum.

She _wanted_ Basket, right now, even more than she did Nicky, which was a first.

And it made Basket so happy that, once Storm was in her arms, she _sobbed_.

Storm snuggled right into Basket's chest, murmuring softly in syllables that suggested contentment. Her hands grabbed hold of the front of Basket's nightgown, holding tightly with each fist, and when Basket had her arm beneath her bottom, to hold onto her legs, better, Storm started “speaking” louder, her tiny voice so endearing to hear...

Basket sobbed again, tilting her head back and away from Storm, not wanting to upset her, let alone scare her away. She was so overwhelmed, but didn't want Storm to leave her arms.

But Storm was _her_ daughter, too. She heard Basket, a little, and instead of fussing or trying to leave, focused on her, raising her head to watch her. Basket placed her hand behind it, and Storm leaned back into her palm and smiled – then frowned again, when she saw Basket's tears increase.

“Bassy,” Olceal whispered. “Talk to her, love. She's worried.”

“Sh-she c-can't hear—,” Basket started, but stopped when, the second she started talking, Storm rested her head back against Basket's chest, to feel _and_ hear her speak, looking comforted by both.

Nickname suddenly had an idea. She leaned over, kissing the top of Storm's head, before she reached between her and Basket and pulled one of the earbuds out.

Basket tried to grab it back, but Nicky dropped it, looking confident. Olceal's eyes focused, and he moved closer, leaning over Nicky while keeping an arm around her.

“Bassy, quick;  _sing_!” Nicky then cried, just as lightning flashed.

“ _S-sing_?! What the _fuck_ , I can't sing for _shit_ , why the _fuck_ \--?”

Basket went silent when Nicky put the earbud into Bass's ear, instead.

For a few seconds that seemed like _hours_ , Basket panicked, her eyes wide and glassy, and she hugged Storm closer, curling around her and making sure Storm's budless ear pressed flat against her chest. She felt Storm nuzzle into her chest, keeping her ear in place and murmuring softly, smiling, still. 

Nicky reached over and unbuttoned the top of Basket's nightgown, pulling it apart, and Storm immediately replaced her head, only right against Bass's bare chest, spluttering out blurbles of pleased comfort.

Only Bass wasn't sure if her voice soothed Storm; everyone else, including Storm, knew the truth.

Aside from Nicky's, Basket's voice was the one Storm had heard the most, and she remembered it. She associated it with being protected, because she also remembered hearing it whenever Nicky was upset, or scared, herself. She also remembered it in _other_ ways, ways that she could only remember as feeling very, _very_ good, while hearing Basket's voice alongside Nicky's, in soothing, wordless tones...

And while it hadn't been set to music, _that_ had been a song of its own, a duet between two people, singing a song only they knew...

Basket had a pretty decent voice, too. While Dandelion inherited Undyne's golden voice, Basket had inherited _half_ of it, and was still rather good.

Basket took a breath, catching up with the lyrics, and after stumbling, she sang along, her voice breaking when the thunder crashed, before she hit her stride.

“’Gr-grab me by my ankles,'” she began, “I-I've been flying for too long. I couldn't hide from the thunder'—,”

And yes, that's _exactly_ when it hit, and Basket held Storm tighter, keeping her hand on her head, to keep her ear pressed closely against her bared skin.

“--'I-in the sky f-full of song',” Basket went on, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against the top of Storm's head, unaware that she was weeping – and smiling.

As Basket sang, slowly rocking herself and Storm, Nicky and Olceal held each other tight, suddenly paralysed by Basket's voice. It was easy to forget that her voice was pretty, if shaky. They heard it so rarely, and whenever she did, and was caught, she was embarrassed, and stopped. Both Olceal and Nicky _hated_ this, wanting to hear that voice more and more, whenever they caught mere wisps of that voice...

“’Hold me down, I'm so tired, now... Aim your arrow at the sky'..."

Storm's ears were still, her eyes wide and her hands holding tight. There was a look of wonder upon her face, wonder and comfort, and it was _beautiful_. Storm heard nothing else, now, between the music in the earbud, or the music in Basket's chest, hearing only those happy things, while being rocked along the pace of said things.

“’I thought I was flying, but maybe I'm dying, tonight'...”

More lightning.

The four barely noticed.

Soon, Basket forgot about how bad she thought her voice was. She kept singing, alongside the singer's, on repeat. Storm heard both, her tail swaying slowly, and a few times, she smiled, or raised her head to squeal happily at Bass, as if to encourage her to keep singing, and Bass would blush, stumble a bit, but return to the song the moment she could.

“’How deeply are you sleeping, or are you still awake?'”

They were all awake, though Storm's eyelids start to flutter, closing them, sometimes, and for longer each time.

Nicky and Olceal, however, were the ones sobbing, now, unable to look away. They knew how important this was for Storm, but also for Basket.

It was like they knew, already, how important this one moment would prove to be. They loved Basket _so much,_ the most, yet, and both wished the thunderstorm would stop, already, so that they could have Basket to themselves, and help her sing a _different_ song...

It lasted less than an hour, which was good, as Basket's voice was getting tired and raspy, but no less sweet, by the end.

By the time they realised that it had ended, and it was now just pouring down rain, Storm was deep asleep, drooling against Basket's chest, her tail now curled loosely around Basket's wrist, the one holding her up. She looked so peaceful, so calm and happy, that it healed the wounds that her screaming had ripped open.

Basket stopped singing, just as the song ended a final time, and she turned it off. She pulled the earbuds out, and, for a moment, she closed her eyes and just... _held_ her daughter, tears running down her cheeks as she listened to Storm breathe, her smile bittersweet.

Storm's hands still held onto Basket tight.

Then, Basket blinked, before opening her eyes, realising that not even her spouses said a word. She had thought maybe they'd fallen asleep, too, the idea making her smile, unable to help kissing Storm's forehead.

It was then that she looked over – and jolted, her eyes going wide and her whole body flooding with shock and embarrassment (neither, thankfully, woke Storm).

Nicky and Olceal were staring at Basket, holding each other, still. Olceal had moved into Nicky’s lap, where she held him tight. They were both crying, but when Basket saw them, they also beamed, as if _proud_ of her.

There was no 'as if'.

“Wh--?” Basket tried, then closed her mouth, her eyes back on Storm.

It could wait.

Basket smiled at them for a moment, then slowly slid to her feet and stood up, moving as slow as possible toward the crib. She held her tail out, too, making sure she balanced properly.

Once there, she checked Storm's diaper, then smiled and kissed her cheeks and nose.

Storm stirred, but didn't wake up. She looked comfortable, so soothed, and like her dreams were just as comfy...

For a moment, forgetting herself, Basket stayed there, her head resting against her arms, which rested against the top of the crib. She smiled, the smile crooked and silly, watching her tiny child sleep, every little sound making her smile wider.

“Bassy.”

She looked up, startled, and again, her spouses were staring at her, in such a way that made her very, very shy. But she walked over and sat back down, smiling weakly.

“It was a good idea,” she whispered, forgetting that it had started off as her own. She took a gulp of water (she always had a cup of it on her bedside table, still Undyne's daughter), then sighed with relief, and after a few more sips, had her voice back.

The whole time, neither Olceal or Nickname moved, and Basket wondered if she'd broken them.

"It was _your_ idea!” she clarified, feeling like she needed to defend herself, now.

Nicky reached out and touched her red cheek, brushing the tears away and calming Basket down. She moved closer, and before she could blink, was hugged between them, Olceal pulling Basket over so that she took his place on Nicky's lap. When she did, Olceal promptly sat on Basket's lap.

It finally broke the spell, and all three burst into soft laughter, holding onto each other and drying each other's tears.

It felt like surviving a tragedy, only to come out looking even better than the tragic stuff had started out as. And it _was_ tragic for them; none of them would _ever_ be able to forget Storm's screaming, or her fighting and hitting them, or how her face looked so scared, so lonely, so _betrayed_...

But then, Nicky changed the mood.

Basket was cookied between them, laughing so hard she was crying; all three knew how to be quiet, now, for Storm – at least until she was ready for her room. Olceal was kissing Basket's face, when Nicky reached over and touched his shoulder, stopping him, and getting both of their attentions.

Nicky was staring at Basket, even with her hand on Olceal. The power hadn't come back on, yet, but Basket could still see Nicky's expression, as well as the light within her eyes.

And like it always did, it made Basket practically melt, always shocked by the fact that Nicky could look like _that_ at all, let alone while looking at Basket.

Olceal noticed, too, and he went red, inhaling sharply when he felt his body react, to both Nicky's expression, and Basket's, as they stared at each other in heavy, heated silence.

Then, Nicky's eyes filled with tears, and she let go of Olceal, leaning down and capturing Basket's face with her hands, and her lips with her own. Basket pulled her closer, parting her legs and bringing Nicky between them, shivering when Nicky moaned softly and pressed down and closer.

Olceal bit his lip, feeling a little left out, until one of Basket's hands shot out, and grabbed him by the waistband of his boxers. Before he could say anything, she pulled, and he stumbled forward. Nicky moved a little, just as Basket caught him, and he curled up into her side, his face going to her neck to kiss and bite, while his hand slid down her entire side, bringing another shiver from Basket.

She had no idea why they were suddenly urgent for her. She figured it was because of how emotional the night had been, and that was certainly _part_ of it. She didn't let it bother her, though, too needy and distracted by their attentions, and instead fell into both of their arms, her eyes closing tight; she'd been about to cry.

But Nicky and Olceal were in agreement, both knowing why they wanted their Basket, and they’d tell her why, after.

Now, however, both wanted the same thing: to make Basket orgasm her brains out, from both love _and_ gratitude.

So, they did.

For a long time, too.

* * *

So long, in fact, that by the time Basket was truly spent, her eyes closed and her body lethargic, it was at _least_ an hour later.

“Mm...” Bass murmured. “Wh-wh-why...?”

Her voice was thick, and all she could feel was relaxed bliss. She appreciated it, but wanted to know why, in case she could get them to do it, again.

Olceal was lying halfway atop her, still panting but holding her close, his eyes closed and his cheek resting against her shoulder. He raised his head, then dropped it, finding it much too heavy, and he swallowed hard, still a little high.

“Guh...” he murmured, his tail swaying slowly.

Basket felt that and giggled, the arm she had around him tightening a little.

“Mmfhhh...” he added, before he sighed and poked Nicky.

Nicky stirred, in a similar state as he was, but on Basket's other side, and nodded, her eyes closed.

“Yes...?” she whispered, her voice tiny.

“Hhhlpppp,” he tried.

Basket giggled, again, in no hurry for the answer, but still wanting one.

“Oh,” Nicky said, still in that tiny voice, and not moving. She was listening to Basket's heartbeat. “Bassy... you're _beautiful_... your _voice_ is so beautiful, love... Storm loves you, dearly... _We_ can't give her _that_ kind of gift...”

Basket was wide awake by the end, the only one who was, and she was trying so hard not to cry. She wanted to protest it, to correct her, to prove them both wrong, but... even she knew they were right.

The evidence was the little puddle of drool that had dried upon Basket's breast.

Olceal, however, broke her walls, and soothed her doubt. He raised his hand and poked Basket's nose, then let it curve around her cheek.

“See,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck affectionately. “You're... a _good_ _mother_ , Bassy...”

Basket sobbed, pulling her arms away and covering her face with her hands, stifling as much as she could.

It kind of worked. Storm stirred, but didn't wake up; til then, she hadn't moved since being placed in her crib, too deeply asleep.

Both Nicky and Olceal opened their eyes, looking at each other and sharing the same kind of grin: love, the purest kind, for Basket, simply for being who she was.

* * *

Basket _was_ a good mother, just like Nicky and Olceal were good parents.

They each had strengths, different and unique from each other. Together, they were like one completely perfect parent, just split three ways.

This was the first of the many times they would discover which was needed for what. It was definitely not the last, but it had been one of the worst, save by the end.

After that, Basket was Storm's go-to source for storm-defence. She grew up knowing it like the colour of her feet, and instinctively knew to go to her mum, just as it started to rain.

It lasted well into her teens, though not as often, of course, especially when it came to pride, and maturity.

But even when she'd moved out, and into a place she lovingly called home, she still sometimes started to look for Basket, despite knowing better.

Those times, all Storm would need, then, was to call her mum, and Basket would sing her Stormy to sleep, no matter her age, until it passed.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hold me down, I'm so tired now  
> Aim your arrow at the sky  
> Take me down, I'm too tired now  
> Leave me where I lie."


End file.
